Caught at Pemberley
by somandyjo
Summary: Elizabeth's northern tour is for a purpose other than pleasure. This is a short Regency AU exploring the idea of Elizabeth as a spy in counterintelligence.
1. Chapter 1

Elizabeth ran the few steps from her hiding place to the back of the house and slipped her boot between the jamb and the kitchen door as it was closing behind the scullery maid. She held her breath and watched the girl through the crack as she continued obliviously on into the kitchen. Elizabeth let out her breath as she shook her head at yet another silly girl with her head in the clouds. What was with these great houses and having such unaware young women leaving such openings to anyone who wanted in? Elizabeth's father would never leave Longbourn so unsecured.

She waited until the maid was out of sight and then listened for a few moments more to ensure that the entryway was empty. When she felt it was safe, she slipped through the doorway and in the opposite direction as the girl. She was not looking for the kitchens, but rather the service access to the rest of the house.

When she turned to her right, there were a series of narrow, dimly lit, hallways running into the house. Perfect. Elizabeth followed the one that ran toward the front door. The housekeeper had pointed out the library earlier in the day, but much to Elizabeth's disappointment, she had not shown it to them. Perhaps if she finished her job without any problems she would risk a peek. She could hardly imagine leaving without seeing a library she had heard so much about.

She reached the end of the passage and climbed the stairwell on silent feet. She listened at the door one floor up, guessing it to most likely be the study, for any sound beyond. When she heard nothing for several minutes she reached for the knob, pausing when she felt a chill run through her. She shuddered and scolded herself in a whisper, "Breathe, Lizzy Bennet, breathe."

The master of the house was not at home, and there was no reason for anyone to be cleaning that late at night. The likelihood of anyone else being in the study was all but nil. The fact that this particular master might recognise her if caught, and might be particularly upset if he did so did not matter. She took another deep breath to steady herself, unused to the feeling fear that was coursing through her. In all of the other places she had been on this tour she had only felt her normal thrill, but this was different. Those other rich houses had been unknown names and faces, just another on the list. She wondered if she more feared getting caught, or finding something she did not want to see.

She reached for the knob again, and this time kept her emotions in check as she turned it silently and cracked the door just enough to check for a light. When none showed, she eased it slowly open, watchful of unused hinges squeaking. She peaked her head around the door and took in the nearly pitch black room. Edging her way in, she pulled her travel lantern out of her pack and eased the light up.

Elizabeth walked toward the windows first, unlatching the one closest to the desk and nudging it slightly open. The main entrance to the room was closer to the desk than she liked, but she hoped no one would come in anyway. At least the window was equally as near, unlike the servant's passageway across the room.

Elizabeth turned back to the desk and went around to open the drawers, one at a time, and sort through endless documents, looking for anything suspicious. She began to realise that the rumours of this man's wealth and consequence were nothing to reality. His reach and power were impressive indeed. What surprised her even more was that it all appeared to be gathered through irreproachable means. What she read of his contracts were honest and fair. He conducted his business all above-board. She began to feel relief as she reached the end of the drawers. She only hoped that what he kept locked away was just as clean.

When she finished, she turned and took the painting off the wall. Thankfully it was simple, and the safe was predictably behind it. Another problem with these rich houses; they all thought they were so clever, but they hid everything in the same place. She pulled a couple of slim tools out of her pack and went to work on the lock. After a few minutes of frustration, she had to cede that at least this house had a decent lock. A few more minutes, however, and she finally heard the click she was waiting for.

Elizabeth began emptying the safe, carefully placing items on the desk in the order she pulled them out. After she had cleared the entire thing, she slowly checked each box, case, and portfolio before returning it to where she had found it.

She rifled through contracts and jewelry, found a beautiful pair of antique dueling pistols and a few other miscellaneous items. This was the part she always found the most interesting, seeing what others thought was priceless or coveted enough to lock up.

Elizabeth picked up the last small jewelry case and opened it, gasping when she saw what was inside. There was a freshly cleaned, brilliant sapphire ring, clearly an heirloom piece by the antique setting. The box was freshly lined with velvet. The ring could easily be a wedding ring. Elizabeth felt herself go slightly faint, wondering if it had been meant for her. Between the flaming review the housekeeper had given her master that afternoon, the knowledge that he was such an honest businessman that she had just discovered for herself, and now this ring, that feeling of regret began to creep into her thoughts again.

She reached her finger out to caress the stone before she closed the case. She was about to turn around and put it back in its place when the door to the hallway suddenly swung open. She had been so absorbed in the ring that she had not been listening carefully and had not heard any footsteps. She froze, waiting to see who came through.

Her heart dropped to her toes when she looked into the shocked face of the master of the house.

* * *

Darcy froze when he saw the light on his desk and heard the gasp from the intruder. _How had someone broken into Pemberley?_ His home, his castle, which supposed to give him a feeling of security, had been _violated_.

The strange man had stopped and was watching him, he could see, though the mask covering his face hid his expression. The stranger continued to stare as Darcy took in what was held in his hand and the open safe behind him. Darcy felt his stomach clench at the sight of his grandmother's ring box in the clutches of a thief. The same ring he had just put away, securely he thought, that afternoon. In his sentimental foolishness, he had come to look at it again when he had been unable to sleep due to thoughts of _her_.

"Put that down," he commanded in his firmest voice. He felt confident, knowing he stood between the would-be thief and both exits. He could handle himself in a fight, if needed.

Darcy watched as the man's eyes flickered to the window before he slowly set the ring down. Darcy never moved his eyes, knowing that the latch was sticky and there was no swift escape that way.

The man moved quickly, all but launching himself at the window, but Darcy was quicker, and landed on him in a flying tackle. There was a slight cracking sound and the thief grunted and gasped. Darcy was surprised at how slight he was; no bigger than a boy of fourteen or fifteen. It was rare to see an adult man with such a slim build, but it seemed impossible that a boy could break in and pick the lock on his safe. The man fought valiantly for one so small, especially if he had cracked ribs, trying to claw his way from under Darcy. Darcy moved to hold him down with a leg and grasp him by the shoulders when he grazed the thief's chest.

"What the devil?" he exclaimed, reaching back to check what he thought he felt, only to pull his hand back as though he had been burned.

 _That_ most definitely did _not_ belong on a man.

His surprise was his downfall, however, as the apparent woman took advantage and slammed the heel of a hand into his jaw and under his ribs in quick succession, then brought her knee up and slammed it into his inner thigh, barely missing his groin. It was enough to send him off-balance, and she threw herself at him, knocking him over.

He could swear he heard her whisper an apology as she scrambled up quickly and dashed for the window again. Darcy moved to follow, figuring he had a moment to catch his breath, when she leapt out the window.

He had not counted on it being open already.

He reached the window and looked out and down. She was headed for the woods, heavily favoring her right leg and holding her right arm. She must have landed on that side. He watched her until she was out of sight.

* * *

Elizabeth was thankful that she only had one-and-a-half floors to fall, otherwise landing on her hip might have broken her. As it was, a shock of pain lanced through her torso like nothing she had ever felt before. If her ribs were not cracked, she would be very surprised.

Mr. Darcy could _move_.

She knew she had no time, though, and got up to do a limping shuffle-run into the woods. She had gotten the information she had come for, but it was a long five mile walk back to Lambton, and she had an aunt and uncle on the other end who would not be pleased.

Nearly two agonising hours later she found herself at the back of the inn, staring at the open window on the second floor, wondering if she would be able to make the climb. It was not as though she could go waltzing through the front door in her gear. She could not enter a public room with a mask on, and she was dressed rather oddly for a woman, with her black boots, breeches, and tunic.

Elizabeth took a painful, deep, breath, and then grabbed hold of the rough brick of the building. She pulled herself up to the first foothold and clenched her jaw through the pain. She did not think she would blackout, however, so she slowly worked her way up to the window. She wrapped her arm around the frame and dragged her body through, landing in a pile on the floor with a loud thump. She pulled her mask off and laid there, not moving, as she caught her breath.

She was not the least bit surprised when her aunt opened her door no more than a minute later.

"Lizzy?" she whispered. "Lizzy, why are you laying on the floor? Are you hurt?"

Elizabeth groaned out what she hoped sounded like a yes.

Her aunt rushed over. "What happened?" she asked as she knelt down to help Elizabeth sit.

Elizabeth grimaced through the process and took a few breaths before she answered. "The master of the house came home a day early."

Her aunt gasped, "Did he recognise you?"

Elizabeth shook her head, "No, but he tackled me. That man moves remarkably well for one so used to pampering. Aunt Gardiner, I think I cracked my ribs."

"Well, I am not surprised if he landed on top of you. He likely outweighs you by two or three stone at least."

"Aye. Will you help me dress for bed? I do not think I can do it alone."

"Of course. Are you certain he did not recognise you, though? You could be in danger if he did."

"No, I think he was too surprised to discover that I was not a man."

"How did he find that out?"

"I have things on my chest that are rather shocking to find on a man, apparently," Elizabeth replied dryly.

Mrs. Gardiner snorted a laugh, "I should be horrified, but really, that must have been a surprise. I imagine his face was a sight to behold."

Elizabeth grinned, "It was. Even better was his surprise when I attacked him and threw him off of me."

Mrs. Gardiner shook her head and grew more serious, "That was too close. I do not like that you are endangering your reputation for this, let alone your life. What if you had been caught? Your family would never again be able to move in society."

"We have been through this before, Aunt. You know that we owe a debt to the crown that must be repaid, and Father cannot do it. Without a son, it fell to one of us. I am the most able, so here we are. If I must exchange my future for the sake of my sisters, I am prepared to do so. You have done everything you can to keep me safe, and for that I thank you. Besides, not being able to move in society is preferable to the alternative."

"I will be grateful when the year is out. How we have kept this quiet for over two-and-a-half years already, I do not know."

Elizabeth would not argue with that, and they moved on to helping her ready for bed. Her aunt checked her ribs, and agreed that they were most likely deeply bruised at best. She wrapped them and gave Elizabeth a cup of tea meant to help her sleep. Mrs. Gardiner reminded her that Mr. Gardiner and herself were going to be out visiting on the morrow, and then left her alone.

Elizabeth spent some time with her thoughts before the tea settled her body enough to overcome the pain. She agreed with her aunt; tonight had been too close. If Mr. Darcy had managed to hold on to her or even just rip her mask off, she did not want to think of what would have happened. He likely resented her enough to have no qualms about exposing her. Even turning her into the local magistrate would have been the end; the man would not know of her arrangement and she would likely be exposed before the crown could interfere. Her ability to move around the country without notice would be gone and her usefulness with it. With less than three months to go, her family would be finished.

With those thoughts, she settled into a troubled sleep.

* * *

 _A/N: I have been tossing around how Elizabeth could/would have been a spy. Hopefully that isn't too shocking. This scene and a later one are some of what caused it to start with, though I'm finding this one doesn't fit in my possible long story. I didn't want to let these go. While I work on the longer one, I decided to put this out there to feel out the response to the idea. This should be about five or six fairly short chapters, and I'm going to be asking you to suspend a LOT of disbelief on how members of the government would have behaved to make that possible (unknown faces in power make easy plot devices)._

 _If you're wondering what's happening to Unanswered Prayers, you can find a short update and a link to a blog post about it on my profile._


	2. Chapter 2

(2)

Darcy, still annoyed with himself for failing to send men after the lady-thief, rode into Lambton the following morning to speak with the magistrate and ascertain whether anyone else had experienced a break in lately. He learned that Pemberley was alone as far as Mr. Dibbins knew, though Darcy wondered if she simply had not been caught before.

She must have been wily to get past Pemberley's staff. He had checked the window latch, and there had been no scratches that indicated a forced entry. Nor had any other door or window on the first two floors. No one had seen or heard anything. He could tell that she had been through his entire desk and safe, and yet he could find nothing missing. He struggled to believe she would have come for the ring alone, with so many other things of value left behind. Why had she not pocketed the other jewelry if that was what she was after? Why not his great grandfather's dueling pistols? Surely someone would pay a pretty penny for those.

She had been after something else. But what? Information? What information of value could he have? His investments and contracts? Why go through all the subterfuge to get them? He had nothing to hide.

And finally, why would she have apologised?

As he left the magistrate's office, he thought he saw a woman who looked just like Elizabeth Bennet walking on the other side of the street.

"You are going to end up in Bedlam, you fool," he muttered to himself as he watched the lady walk slowly.

Elizabeth Bennet never walked with a measured gait. She flew on her feet. Still, that bonnet was just like the one she wore when she had walked to Netherfield the previous autumn and again at Hunsford. He hesitated, then decided to cross the street to see. He would be the only to know if he was wrong.

The lady walked into the post-office and he hesitated. He had never had a reason to visit a post-office before. Would he be recognized and required to fabricate an excuse for being there? He decided to wait outside for her to reappear.

* * *

Elizabeth had never felt so terrible in her life. Her ribs were still wrapped, but they ached with every step she took. Her hip had a large bruise forming, and it felt bigger every minute. Her right shoulder was not fairing much better. She could not take a deep breath for fear of fainting. She knew she should not be out, but she desperately needed to send her letter, and her aunt and uncle had left for their visit before she had awoken for the day. They needed to keep up the appearance of pleasure travel.

She eased down the street and entered the post-office. She walked to the counter and smiled at Mrs. Trent.

"Another letter, Miss Bennet?" the lady asked curiously.

"Yes ma'am. My father cannot travel anymore, and enjoys reading stories of mine. We visited Pemberley yesterday, and he will want to hear of all of the grandness."

The lady appeared to accept her excuse and took the letter, to Elizabeth's relief. It was one of her biggest worries, sending too many letters from the same place. That was why she and her father had chosen to have her send her messages through him. He would forward them to the Secretary himself. It was beyond suspicious for a young lady to write to a man so unconnected to her.

As she walked out the door, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She started and tried to move away, but faltered from the pain of moving too quickly. When she saw that it was Mr. Darcy, she was so shocked that she nearly swooned for the first time in her life.

* * *

"Miss Bennet!" Darcy cried as he reached out to catch her. His hand caught her upper arm and she cried out in pain. He let go quickly, only to have her nearly collapse. He reached out a second time and wrapped both arms around her in a loose embrace.

"Miss Bennet, are you injured?" He asked, concerned. She stood very still in the circle of his arms, carefully holding herself up by bracing her forearms against his chest. Her breath was coming in short, pained gasps, and she did not answer.

"Miss Bennet?" he asked again. Though worried for her, he could not deny that he drew immense pleasure from holding her in his arms.

"A moment, please," she whispered, staring straight at his chest, her face hidden under the brim of her bonnet. She took a slightly longer breath, and then pulled back to stand on her own. Darcy felt disappointment fill him, though he knew she could not stand so close to him in public. He offered his arm as his own consolation, hoping she would take it. She did.

He looked more closely at her face as they walked slowly, now that he could see it. She was very pale.

"Miss Bennet, forgive me, but are you unwell?"

She smiled slightly in response, "Nothing that will not be better in time, do not be concerned. I merely slipped on one of my rambles and injured my shoulder in the fall. It is painful, but I am told it will heal."

"I am grateful to hear it. How did you come to be in Derbyshire?"

"I am here with my aunt and uncle on a tour of the county. We were at Pemberley just yesterday. I am surprised to see you in town this morning; we were told you would not arrive until today, and that you would be with a large party."

"I arrived yesterday, a day ahead of the rest, to speak with my steward. I wanted to free up my time for my guests."

"How very thoughtful of you," she replied with her quirked smile.

Darcy went quiet for a minute, trying to decide what that quirk meant. He would have presumed to know it was flirtatious teasing last spring, but he had learned his lesson.

"Pemberley is very beautiful," Elizabeth commented after a long silence, surprising him.

"I am glad you think so," he replied, feeling a warmth fill him.

"I have never seen a house so happily situated, nor one for whom nature has been allowed to do so much. It truly looks as though it sprang from the ground itself, it fits so perfectly into the landscape. I like it very much and - " she suddenly stopped speaking and blushed, then turned her face away.

"I must say that I agree," Darcy replied gently, understanding her embarrassment. "I could not claim impartiality, however."

He felt her relax slightly as she graced him with a sweet smile, "I would be disappointed if you felt anything less."

Darcy felt his heart clench at what was quite possibly the first true smile she had ever gifted him. He wanted so badly to continue their conversation, but knew that so many topics would be awkward for them both. He did not wish to make her feel any more embarrassed.

She was also quiet, and Darcy cursed himself for his inability to think of anything to say. Between his surprise in seeing her, the feelings she brought to the forefront of his mind, and his distraction from the lady-thief, he found himself unable to focus.

"Where are you staying?" he asked, finally remembering her travels.

"The Rose and Crown," she replied, nodding at the building just up the street.

He nodded, "And your aunt and uncle, they are not with you today?"

"The Gardiners are visiting friends. I was not feeling up to a full visit, and chose to stay behind and take care of my correspondence."

"Would you," he hesitated, "would you be willing to introduce me to your uncle and aunt during your stay?"

This time her smile was brilliant, and Darcy could not help but smile in return.

"If you do not have plans for the morrow, I would be happy to send a carriage for you to come to afternoon tea. If you are willing, I would very much like to introduce my sister to you while you are here." Darcy hesitated, and then chose to add, "Mr. Bingley and his sisters are also of the party."

"I would be delighted," Elizabeth replied, after a few moments hesitation. "I should like to meet your sister, and I would enjoy Mr. Bingley's company again. I can speak to our plans, as well. We had intended to view the countryside tomorrow. I will confirm with my aunt and uncle, but I can tentatively agree to your plan. We will send a note to Pemberley this evening."

Darcy felt relief that the mention of Mr. Bingley had not upset her. "Thank you, Miss Bennet, I very much look forward to tomorrow."

Darcy left her at the inn with a feeling of anticipation for seeing her in his home on the morrow. While he had wished to bring her there as his wife, he would content himself with seeing her there at all. Hopefully he could show her that her reproofs had been attended to. He wished her to at least think well of him, but whether or not he could hope for more would be seen. He hoped that this thief did not continue to cause trouble and throw a cloud over her visit.

* * *

Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief when Darcy walked away from her. It was difficult to pretend she was comfortable in his presence. The combined awkwardness of their history and the secret he had come so close to uncovering made her nervous. His mannerisms were not suspicious and he seemed genuinely happy to see her, though. She had not been found out. Hopefully he had not gotten a good enough view of her the night before to make the connection. She knew that she should probably avoid him, but she did not want to arouse his suspicion that way. She had no expectation for them, but she also would like him to know that she no longer thought so poorly of him, that she believed what he had told her in his letter. His wanting an introduction to her aunt and uncle, and for his sister, were great surprises to her. If he was going to make an effort to be more congenial, she wished to see it.

That evening, her aunt and uncle agreed that there should be no danger in seeing him again, if he had not been suspicious. They agreed that acting naturally was the best way to prevent suspicion, whereas leaving abruptly or avoiding him would raise questions.

Elizabeth and the Gardiners went to tea the following afternoon in the best-sprung carriage any of them had ever used. Her aunt and uncle were still feeling the compliment of being noticed at all, and began to wonder if the gentleman was susceptible to their niece's charms. The afternoon confirmed it, much to their consternation. While they would normally be delighted for their niece, in this instance it made them uneasy for fear of his making the connection they could ill afford.

Mr. Darcy was everything amiable toward them, however, and seemed truly delighted to introduce his sister to them all. There was some awkwardness when seeing Mr. Bingley, but in general he appeared delighted with their company. Elizabeth thought she saw a wistful expression on his face when he looked at her, and she was delighted on Jane's behalf, thinking he was likely thinking of her. Whether it was enough to send him back to Netherfield would be seen, but perhaps it was.

Miss Bingley was less happy to see Elizabeth and her aunt. She attempted to undermine Elizabeth a few times with barbed comments, but the group as a whole was too determined to enjoy the visit to allow her much room. Both Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley had no patience for her. Miss Darcy could believe no wrong of a lady whom her brother wished to introduce to her, and Mrs. Hurst was beginning to recognise that perhaps Elizabeth Bennet was about to capture the prize her own sister so badly wanted. Not wishing to alienate such a connection, she was less willing than previous to join Miss Bingley in her attempts.

For those pleased participants, the afternoon passed too swiftly. With much regret, they said their adieus and Darcy walked Miss Bennet and her relatives back to the carriage. He surprised them by choosing to ride back to the inn with them.

For Darcy, he could not bring himself to separate from Elizabeth. She had been genuinely warm, and he had felt a powerful hope forming in his breast. He was pleased with the manners and obvious good breeding of her aunt and uncle, and was determined to show that to her.

Their pleasant conversation continued on the ride, which was all too short for Darcy. They pulled to a stop in front of the inn, and he helped Elizabeth down. She was leaning more heavily on him than he would have expected, but he attributed it to the same fall that had injured her shoulder.

Darcy was walking them toward the inn when Elizabeth's boot caught on a rock in and she tripped. Instead of righting herself as he expected, she simply collapsed. He reacted quickly and reached out with both arms to catch her and she cried out in agony. Instead of pulling her up, he knelt and led her gently to the ground. She sat and he felt her breathing increase pace again, coming in short gasps.

"Miss Bennet!" he cried, her aunt and uncle coming up to them quickly. He glanced up and saw fear in their eyes. He turned back to her with more concern, assuming they knew something of her injuries that he did not.

He watched her reach a hand up to cover her mouth and leaned in to look at her face. She was weeping from pain. He reached out and touched her sides in order to help her up and to a more comfortable seat only to feel her flinch away.

"Miss Bennet? Did you injure more than your shoulder?" he asked in concern. "You are moving as though..." he trailed off and looked at her quietly. She glanced up with what looked like fear in her eyes now. "You have fractured ribs," he finished, the thought hitting him.

It could not be.

He saw her uncle move protectively toward her and assist her to stand.

He could not believe it, but the evidence was too obvious when he thought about it. She had arrived the day of the break in. She had toured Pemberley, which easily could have been for discovering the layout. She had injured the same side that the thief had. She was more intelligent and fit than most women he knew. She was the right size. While he could not believe it of a gentlewoman, he realised that it was the perfect way to hide. No one would believe it unless they witnessed it themselves.

Elizabeth had felt Darcy freeze for a moment while he knelt next to her. When she had glanced up, he had looked astonished, and when he had spoken of her ribs he had sounded distant. After her uncle had helped her stand, she had glanced briefly at him, only to see a stony look that terrified her.

"Miss Bennet," Darcy said stiffly as he stood and took a step back, "there was a burglar at Pemberley the night before last. A woman, shockingly enough. I discovered her in my study and I believe she may have damaged her ribs in her escape. Ironic, is it not?"

Elizabeth felt her lips quirk into a sad smile. "Very," she replied warily.

"If I asked you if you knew anything about that event, would you deny it?" he asked coldly.

Elizabeth chose not to respond. She could not bring herself to lie to him.

"You do not deny it," he said, shocked that it appeared to be true. "You let me invite you into my home. You let me endanger my sister by introducing you to her. You threw yourself back into my path, knowing..." his voice trailed to a whisper, and she could hear the betrayal in it. She wanted so badly to deny what he was saying, but did not think it would matter.

"Neither you nor your sister is in any danger from me, nor anyone connected to me," she replied.

"If I asked what you were there for, would you tell me?"

"I cannot."

He watched her quietly for moment, and then spoke with hurt in his tone, "I have never truly known you, and I never will, will I? Even if I had behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner, if I had not caused you to despise me, there was never hope, was there? Are you anything like you pretend to be?"

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears, and she tried to think of some way to convince him otherwise. To find some way to hold on to the hope that had newly begun to form in the past day, even knowing the nearly insurmountable history she carried.

He spoke before she had the chance. "Good day, Miss Bennet," he said tersely. He turned on his heel, leapt into his carriage without using the steps, and slammed the door behind him.

She heard him call out to his driver, and then they were down the street and gone.


	3. Chapter 3

(3)

Elizabeth hurt. Her body hurt, her head hurt, and her heart hurt. Her aunt and uncle helped her up to her room and left her to rest while they planned. She crawled into her bed and let herself cry out her frustration for a while.

She had been uneasy when she saw that Pemberley was a target. Her instincts had known it would not end well, though she had known since April that it was likely to happen.

She had made it over two-and-a-half years without being caught, and now, with less than three months to go, she had been discovered. Where had her skills with words gone? Her heart had overruled her head and she could not prevaricate. Instead, she had let herself be discovered. To what end? She had lost his respect now anyway. It was not as though she could hold expectation of a future for them. Lying to him would have changed nothing. But her heart still clenched at the thought of doing so.

What would he do with his knowledge? He had no proof to be sure, but it would not be difficult for someone who suspected her to look more closely into her recent past and discover it. She had depended heavily upon being a gentlewoman to hide what she had been required to do. No one suspected her because no one would believe it possible.

But would he expose her? She wondered if he would be able to. In his eyes she was a common thief. The penalty for that could still be death. Would he be able to do that to a gentlewoman? One whom he had once loved? Could she count on his chivalry?

He might not expose her, but could she leave him thinking so poorly of her? If she found some way to tell him that she was not a thief, and by extension confirm her guilt in being his intruder, would it put her in more danger from him? Could she tell him in a way that would help her cause?

Those questions circled in her mind until she eventually fell into an exhausted sleep. She awoke the next day stiff, sore, and sad. She rose and dressed carefully with her aunt's help and they joined her uncle.

Mr. Gardiner began to speak as soon as she sat down. "Lizzy, we think it is best to leave the area. Mr. Darcy has no proof of his suspicions, and I would rather not be around for a magistrate to come asking questions. Even if he decides to follow through with accusing you, it will be much easier to deny if you are healed before they can find you and corroborate his story."

Elizabeth knew that he was right, but she felt her heart begin to crack at the thought of leaving behind the only man she had ever truly esteemed, and without any explanation. She wanted him to know everything she was able to tell him. If they left, her opportunity was lost. It was impossible that he could understand after that.

Then she remembered the letter he had once written her.

Would it work?

"When do you intend to depart?" she asked, thinking rapidly as she said it.

"As soon as we are able," replied her aunt. "We do not want to risk another encounter. We will visit the Wagners this morning as planned to avoid any more suspicion, but we will keep it short. It is only a few days early, and it should be explainable."

"Do you mind my staying behind while you visit? I have not been introduced, and I think the fewer people who remember me, the better."

"I do not like leaving you alone," replied her uncle.

"We will tell the maid that I am not available to visitors. That is entirely reasonable if I am alone."

Mr. Gardiner relented and he and Mrs. Gardiner finished most of their preparations for the journey, then left for their visit.

Elizabeth went to her writing things as quickly as she could after they were gone. She knew she did not have much time, that they would not approve, and she was likely being foolish, but she could not leave Mr. Darcy like this.

She wrote her letter carefully, knowing she did not have time to recopy it. She read it back through, and mostly satisfied though wishing she could say more, she sealed it and called for the maid.

"Will you please see that this is sent after we leave today?" she asked.

The maid took it and assured her that it would be sent. Elizabeth went to her room and carefully worked on packing her trunk. Her aunt and uncle returned to the inn a short time later and they finished gathering everything. They were gone within the hour, headed south for Longbourn. They were all concerned about Elizabeth's ability to travel in her condition, but they were expected back in under a week and decided it was better to travel slowly for her sake and still arrive when due.

* * *

Darcy had returned home the evening before and gone through the motions of dressing and participating in dinner. He tried to hide the turmoil in his mind, but he knew that he had been quieter than usual. He escaped his sister and guests as soon as he reasonably could for the safety of his rooms. He would have normally gone to his study, but _she_ had been there, and it was too upsetting.

He spent the night agonising over what he had learned.

He had tackled Elizabeth Bennet.

No matter what he now knew of her, it appalled him that he had injured a woman.

But she was a _thief_!

That Elizabeth was a criminal shocked him. He knew he should turn her over to the magistrate, or even take her to London to deal with the authorities there, but he could not imagine sealing her fate like that. What else would happen but prison or hanging? His heart could not stand the thought, even if his mind demanded the justice.

How had he fallen in love with a thief? He had never even had an inkling of anything suspicious before. How did she manage such a double life? Her aunt and uncle must have known, since they were not the least bit surprised by his accusation. Were they complicit in her crimes?

Finally, why would she do it? It made no sense for a gentlewoman to risk her life and her reputation like that. It seemed unreasonably reckless. Her entire family's standing was at stake, not to mention her own life.

He eventually forced himself to go through the motions of readying for bed, if for no other reason than to relieve his valet for the night. He tossed and turned until the early hours of the morning though, finally falling into a troubled sleep.

He awoke a few hours later feeling unrested and with a mixture of anger and sadness inside of him. He felt anger at her for going amongst her peers as though she were a normal lady. It was cruel of her to do so. Did she really not see that men would be attracted to her combination of intelligence, grace, and sweetness? Good men who would have good intentions!

He was angry at himself for feeling sadness toward the loss of a woman who had never really existed. The Elizabeth Bennet he had fallen in love with was an apparition. She was not real, but his heart still mourned.

Darcy dreaded joining his party, and decided to go riding on his own before Bingley or Hurst arose and could join him. They were still used to town hours and would not be up yet. He needed to settle his mind and make himself fit for company.

He rode hard in the opposite direction of Lambton, not wanting to be tempted to see her. He knew he was not ready, might never be ready. He really ought to wish to never see her again.

No matter how much he hoped he had been wrong.

He returned from his ride tired but not in much better of a state of mind than when he left. He changed out of his riding clothes and went to the breakfast parlour and braced himself for company.

He found them all exasperating.

He could tell that his sister was worried; she was watching him closely and he knew that she could see his distress. Bingley's excitement over having seen Jane Bennet's sister was excruciating. Caroline's derogatory comments only served to remind him of how special Elizabeth had been. Caroline represented the majority of the women of the _ton_ , and what he had hoped to have escaped when he thought Elizabeth could be his wife.

After what felt like an eternity, Darcy left them to deal with his correspondence before their planned afternoon of lawn games. He walked into his study and felt all of the distress of the last day weigh down on him. He looked at the pile of letters resting on his desk and felt despair wash over him as it had in April. Reminding himself of his need to conquer his feelings, he forced himself to drudge through his duty.

He sat down and sorted through the letters. He stopped when he saw one addressed in an unfamiliar feminine hand. It must have been sent locally, as it merely said _Fitzwilliam Darcy, Pemberley_ on the envelope. He flipped it over, saw the 'B' pressed into the wax, and sucked in a harsh breath. He hesitated for a moment, and then tore open the envelope, not believing that she would write to him. It was dated that day, and appeared to have been written just a few hours earlier from Lambton. He glanced to the closing, saw the initials E.B., and nearly dropped the letter.

Did he want to know what she had to say? What possible defense could she offer? Or was it to beg him for secrecy?

It did not matter, he had to know. He looked to the salutation and braced himself.

 _Dear Mr. Darcy,_

 _You once wrote me a letter in defence of your character, and I beg of your justice the same privilege for myself. I cannot tell you everything, but I can give you something more than you already know. I hope the explanation I can give you is enough for you to acquit me of gross misconduct._

 _To start, I am not a thief. I know that the evidence implies otherwise, but you must be aware that I took nothing. I have never stolen personal belongings from anyone in my life, though I suppose the opportunity was there._

 _That is not my duty._

 _I cannot tell you what my duty is, but I can tell you my purpose is meant to be for the greater good. Whether or not you or I agree with those in authority to make this choice does not matter. This duty has fallen to my family, and in turn to me. The consequences of not performing this duty would be devastating to my family. Whether or not anyone else believes that the consequences are sufficient motivation to do what I have done matters not; for me the alternative is unfathomable._

 _I want you to know that I believe you are a good man. I knew that after having read your letter. Now, after meeting you again, I begin to realise that you are quite possibly the best of men. If you have been striving to improve yourself, might I be so bold as to say that it has been noticed. Your recognition of my relatives and me was a consideration I had not expected. You had every reason to resent me after what occurred in April, and that you do not shows your charity._

 _I am incredibly sorry to have injured you, both in what I said last spring and for the pain I have caused you now. I could wish for circumstances to be different, but I will not tease you with what might have been. For your sake, I pray that you are soon able to forget me, though I think it unlikely I shall ever forget you._

 _May God Bless You,_

 _E.B._

He dropped the letter on his desk and walked to a window to think.

What was she implying by calling what she did 'a duty' for an 'authority'? Was she telling him that she worked for someone in their government? She was right that he knew she had not taken anything. He had wondered why she was there, if not for valuables. Could it be she was after information? But why him? Why would anyone be interested in Pemberley? And who was this authority?

He sighed.

He was relieved that she was not a common criminal. It upset him that she had been willing to invade his privacy, but he could also understand her doing what she saw necessary to protect her family. He sincerely hoped that she and her family were safe from whatever it was she feared so badly.

He went back to his desk and read it again, this time focusing on the last two paragraphs.

It was bittersweet, knowing that she approved of and respected him, now that it was too late. The last few sentences almost made him believe that she had come to care for him. If he believed that the woman he knew had been acting naturally with him, had not been putting on a facade as part of her double life, then he could believe it to be so. It made his heart ache.

He was not likely to forget her as she hoped.


	4. Chapter 4

(4)

Elizabeth and her aunt and uncle reached Longbourn as expected. The days had gone from excruciatingly painful to bearable as they had traveled, but her ribs were finally beginning to heal and she was able to walk comfortably again by time they disembarked from the carriage for the last time.

"Well Lizzy," said her father as the family all greeted one another, "it is good to see you home, even if you must leave again soon."

Elizabeth smiled at her father and embraced him, "I love you, Papa."

"Yes, yes," he replied as he pulled back, looking at her with concern.

"I am well enough," she whispered, to which he nodded.

She could feel him watching her closely as she went to her mother and sisters. Only Jane, of the rest of her family, knew what she did. Their father had deemed their mother and the younger girls too indiscreet to be told.

Jane embraced her with relief in her eyes as she always did when Elizabeth returned home safely. Her mother, however, began her worn-out grumbling, "Tsk, I see you have again been given the privilege of traveling and come home unattached. I tell you Lizzy, if you continue on in this manner, while refusing perfectly acceptable offers, I will insist upon one of your other sisters taking your place. If you cannot take advantage of your situation, I am sure one of them will. _Somebody_ needs to save this family from destitution when your father dies."

"La! I would have been well married by now if I had been allowed to travel as often as you!" cried Lydia. "I am sure I should have been engaged at least if only I had gone to Brighton."

"Of course you would!" added her mother. "Perhaps Kitty, too, had I been allowed to take you. Instead we still have five unmarried, unattached daughters, but no one else worries what shall happen to us! "

"And yet I was unmoved," Mr. Bennet interjected dryly. "Though it would have been much quieter here had you all gone."

He turned then, and began his slow walk back to the house. The rest joined him, his wife continuing her lamentations. They entered the house, with Elizabeth and Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner moving to unpack and rest after their journey. The evening was quiet, though the Gardiner children were allowed at dinner to spend more time with their parents.

Elizabeth rose early the next day and walked as she usually would, staying closer than her custom to Longbourn due to her injuries. When she returned to the house, she was called into her father's study as she passed his door. She entered and shut the door behind her.

"Good morning, Papa," she greeted as kissed his cheek before sitting.

"Did you enjoy your morning walk?"

She smiled, "As well as I am able. I will be happy when I can move freely again."

Mr. Bennet sighed, "I do not like that you have been injured. You must go to the Bathursts in just a week, and it will put you in more danger."

"Papa, this assignment will likely be all dancing and conversation. The Earl and Countess will see that I am safe enough."

He sighed again, "I know that, and I trust them, but it does not make me worry any less if you find who you are looking for."

"Lord Apsley and the colonel will be there."

"As will Lord Liverpool."

"Yes, but he is the reason we are having the house party," she replied, slightly confused.

"Lizzy, I do not know the man well. He holds the letters, and he is the one who put us in this place. I do not know what he will say to you if he meets you personally."

"If he even notices me, which I doubt he will, I will be careful, Papa."

He nodded and then looked out the window distractedly for a few minutes before he turned back to her. "I do not like sending you into his presence. Perhaps it was your close call last week that is making me so nervous. You do not think that Mr. Darcy knew you. Are you still confident?"

Elizabeth sighed, "I am not. He came across me in Lambton the following morning and invited my aunt, uncle, and me to tea. We went, thinking it was less likely to draw suspicion. He discovered my injuries, however, and unfortunately made the connection. He knows."

Mr. Bennet was quiet as he thought through the implications of this news. "Are you certain, absolutely certain?"

"I am."

"Was anyone else there to see his discovery?"

"No, he had escorted us back to the inn."

"Do you think he will act upon his knowledge?"

Elizabeth was thoughtful for some time before she answered, "I do not think so."

"Why?"

"He is a chivalrous man, and I do not believe he could put a woman, especially one whom he has declared love for, in danger. Even if it is of her own making."

"Even one who has broken his heart already?"

She smiled sadly, "He is too good to let it influence him. He is a much better man than I ever gave him credit for. He invited my aunt and uncle to Pemberley; the same aunt and uncle whom he had disparaged not four months earlier. He must have forgiven me as well, to have done so."

"You do not think he will see justice as the right thing to do?"

Elizabeth hesitated, "Papa, you should know that I wrote him a letter. I told him that I am not a thief, and hinted that I have the sanction of our government to be doing what I did."

Mr. Bennet stared at her in shock, "Why would you do that? You confirmed that you were his intruder and gave him written evidence of it!"

"I am aware that it was a risk, but I think it more likely that he will be sympathetic if he knows I am not a common criminal."

"But a letter? That is what got us into this mess in the first place!" he said in frustration, his voice rising.

Elizabeth felt tears gather in her eyes, "I could think of no other way to tell him. We were to leave in a hurry, and I could not exactly call on him before we left. I know it may have been foolish, and that there is a possibility that our entire family will suffer humiliation because of it. I am sorry for taking that risk, but I just...I just needed him to know that I am not as terrible as appearances suggested."

Mr. Bennet buried his face in his hands, "But you gave him a letter, Lizzy. A letter. He had scant proof at best before that, and may not have risked his own reputation on that alone. Now he has physical proof in your own hand."

"I truly believe he will not use it against me, or I would not have sent it."

"How can you be so sure? Just four months ago you thought him an immoral man!"

"Because I know him better now, Papa. He is a good man, perhaps one of the best I have ever met. You know that I had just confirmed that he is a moral man in his business matters. Knowing what we now do, that Mr. Wickham was lying to all of us, can you think of one thing that makes you question Mr. Darcy's integrity?"

Mr. Bennet moved his head up to look at her curiously. Then his eyes turned sad. "You care for him, don't you?"

It was Elizabeth's turn to look away, "It does not matter."

"Oh, my Lizzy," he said as he stood, leaving his cane behind and leaning on the desk for support as he moved to sit next to her. "I had hoped that this would not happen to you, that you would be done and past all of this before you met a man worthy of you."

Elizabeth bit her lip against the tears, but they still fell. "That was never very likely anyway," she said quietly.

Her father wrapped her up in his arms, "I am sorry Lizzy. Sorry for getting upset with you for doing what you thought best, and sorry for getting you in this mess in the first place through my own foolishness."

"Oh Papa, you know that I do not blame you," she said softly into his shoulder. "You made a mistake that in the end harmed no one but yourself. That Lord Liverpool has chosen to hold this over you to force your cooperation is on him."

"You are very good to not point out my hypocrisy."

"I cannot blame you for your worry, though I truly believe it misplaced here. Public exposure from Mr. Darcy would be an embarrassment and cause trouble for my sisters' futures, but it is not as bad what would happen to us all if Lord Liverpool had not gotten the satisfaction he desired from you. I will not feel safe until we have your letters in our own possession. Never marrying is such a small price to pay considering the alternative."

* * *

Darcy spent two weeks trying not to show his impatience with his guests. He had nowhere to go, and yet he felt restless at Pemberley. He needed to _do_ something, even if there was no way to do something about _her._

A few days before their scheduled departure, Bingley rose early enough to ride with him.

"I have been thinking Darcy," he said after they had been riding for a while, "and I do believe I am going to go back to Netherfield before the lease is up."

Darcy looked at him in surprise, "Whatever for?"

"Well, you know it was a good start to my trying to be a landowner. I really ought not to give it up so easily."

"True. But what of the neighborhood?"

"Seeing Miss Elizabeth made me realise that I should like to be amongst my neighbors again. Perhaps…" he broke off and was quiet for a few minutes. Darcy let him think.

"Oh, dash it! I want to see Jane Bennet again. I know that you did not see affection in her, but who is to say that I may not earn her affection? We did not spend all that much time together. While it was easy for me to fall in love with her, I am not as sweet and lovely as she, and perhaps she could grow to feel for me as well if given the opportunity. Even if she does not, I would like to try again." He looked to his friend and asked hesitantly, "What do you think Darcy? You once advised me that her heart was likely not easily touched, but do you think it impossible?"

Darcy felt torn. He now knew that Jane Bennet had cared for his friend, if he believed Elizabeth to be telling the truth. But he had the added concern of what exactly the Bennet family was about!

"I do not think it impossible," Darcy replied, but then went silent again.

Bingley sighed, "But you do not think it a good idea."

"No, I think you need to be very careful. You may have set expectations within the neighborhood before, and returning could set rumours spreading. You would not wish to injure Miss Bennet."

"I have no desire to do so. Can you think of no other objection to my return?"

None that he could speak aloud!

Bingley laughed, "I can see by the set of your mouth that you have none, but you do not wish to admit it. I do believe I will go. I will escort my sisters and brother to Scarborough first, but you are welcome to join me after about the fifteenth of September. You might find the neighborhood surprising."

Darcy nodded noncommittally. What else could he do? As painful as it would be, he felt certain he would join his friend if for no other reason than his own protection.

* * *

Two days after the departure of Bingley and his family, Darcy found himself on the road back to London at the request of his cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam. It seemed his aunt, Lady Catherine, had replaced her steward and needed assistance in settling him in. Fitzwilliam had official duties that he could not shirk, and so it fell to Darcy.

He wondered, on his long three day ride, if Elizabeth Bennet had been through his aunt's house as well. He supposed she had ample opportunity while staying at the parsonage, but he could not imagine why she would want to. Then again, he had not been able to imagine a reason for her interest in Pemberley. If she were a petty thief he could see it, but she had been adamant that it was not the case.

He had read her letter often enough in the couple of weeks since receiving it to know it by heart. He felt ridiculous at times, but his desire to understand had overruled his reason repeatedly. He pulled it out of his inner jacket pocket and ran his finger over the already-worn folds. It would be in tatters before the summer was out.

It was a good representation of his heart.

He sighed, slipped it back into his pocket and then leaned back and covered his eyes with a hand. He was becoming a sentimental fool.

* * *

"Darcy!" Lady Catherine said sharply, drawing his attention back from the window he had been looking out of. "Come sit down and attend Anne and me."

He did his best to hid a grimace as he complied. His aunt's rude behaviour had become glaringly apparent since his new-found guilt over disparaging Elizabeth's family. At least her family was merely foolish and a little embarrassing, whereas his could be cruel and overbearing.

"I think it high time we announce your engagement, Darcy," his aunt declared. "You are eight and twenty now, and it is not unreasonable for you to wed. Anne has waited long enough."

Darcy felt all the shock that accompanied a declaration such as that without warning, and with a quick glance to Anne, saw that she felt the same. Her face had gone even paler than usual, and she looked at him with a slight fear in her eyes.

He gathered his composure and replied, "Aunt, I am not here on pleasure, nor will there ever be such an announcement. I am here to assist your new steward in his transition, and nothing more."

She cleared her throat in irritation, "Considering how highly he came recommended and the wage I pay him, that man ought to be able to figure it out for himself. You need not waste your time on him. It would be better spent with your betrothed."

"I have no betrothed."

"Well, it is not for a lack of an opportunity. If you need to go through the formality, feel free to do so. I will even leave you alone for a few minutes, if necessary, though Anne does not need any privacy from her own mother."

"Aunt Catherine, I have no intention of proposing to my cousin."

"I had expected you to at least offer her that courtesy. I realise that you know what her answer will be, but it is the gentlemanly thing to do."

"Aunt!" Darcy said sharply, exasperated with her deliberate obtuseness. "Much as I care for her as my cousin, I will not be marrying Anne."

Lady Catherine's mouth formed a thin line, "You know that your entire family sanctions it, that it is your departed mother's wish. You were formed for each other! You cannot be serious. Of course you will marry Anne."

"I do not see why you are being so stubborn about this, Aunt. I have declared it impossible, and you do not have any power over me; I am my own man."

To Darcy's surprise, his aunt became enraged. While she had always been commanding, she had never looked so angry when her will was not obeyed.

"We shall see about that," she said harshly. "I will speak to my brother. He is the head of this family, and he will agree with me."

"He is the head of the Fitzwilliam family, Aunt. I am a Darcy. You will not intimidate me into doing your bidding." When she only looked angrier, Darcy became concerned for her health. "Aunt, I do believe that I should retire for the evening. Perhaps with a night's sleep, you will see that I will not be moved. There is nothing to be gained from belabouring the point. Tomorrow I will begin working with your steward, and perhaps by dinner we can meet calmly again."

He bid Anne goodnight and left for his chambers. He was careful to lock the doors, worried that his aunt would attempt to force the issue in her current state. He had never seen her so angry before, and truly did not think his refusal to marry Anne should cause her to be so. What would have caused her current mood was beyond him.

The following day proved just as bewildering. Her new steward was about the same age as himself, but the only experience in running an estate the man had was witnessing his elder brother learning in childhood. He was the younger son of a landowner, and not a particularly poor one from what Darcy could gather, yet he was a steward. It made no sense. Why had he not gone into the army or the law?

The man was very intelligent and grasped the knowledge he needed quickly, though, so perhaps that is what had brought on the recommendation.

The oddest moment of the day came, however, when his aunt joined them for a few moments in the study. She demanded to know when they would be setting the household budgets, as she wished to have her say in the process. That in itself was a surprise to Darcy; he assumed that she maintained control of them. Then Mr. Wright calmly informed her that they would summon her when they were ready. Lady Catherine attempted to command them to review them at that moment, because she was ready. Darcy expected the man to cower and acquiesce immediately, but he did not. Mr. Wright confidently stood his ground, resulting in Lady Catherine leaving in a huff.

The entire week that Darcy spent at Rosings proceeded in that fashion. He would spend his days with a confident, unservile, Mr. Wright and his evenings with his indignant aunt, who continued to try to work on his supposed engagement to his cousin. She would at turns cajole and threaten him, though her threats were all hollow due to her lack of actual power over him.

When he attempted to ask her why she had hired a man whom she clearly did not like and whose attitude bordered on insubordination, she would tersely respond that he was highly recommended and would not elaborate. While Darcy would never tolerate such an attitude in his own steward, he acknowledged that Rosings would likely be in much better condition in very short order, since his aunt would no longer hold sway.

Still, in all, it was very odd.

* * *

 _A/N: In order to keep this a truly short story, I'm taking the easier path of Mrs. Bennet and the younger girls' ignorance. You can assume that most events appeared to unfold exactly as in the original up to the start of this story for anyone who does not know Elizabeth's secret._

 _Thanks for all of the reviews - your guessing at the plot is fascinating and has sparked enough new ideas to make this last a little longer than I had originally intended. This is why I love the risk of WIPs - it's a group effort!_


	5. Chapter 5

(5)

Elizabeth finished yet another dance with one of Lord Bathurst's men without finding any leads toward whom his leak might be. She had discovered a man who had smuggling ties and another who was in search of a new mistress, much to her disgust, but no one who was selling secrets.

She was beginning to wonder if Lord Liverpool was simply being outsmarted by the French, rather than spied upon.

She did not have a partner for the next set, and she went to stand by the punch bowl and watch the crowd. There was a lot to be learnt from seeing who was speaking to whom.

"Miss Elizabeth, it is good to see you again," came a familiar voice from behind her.

Her lips smiled of their own volition as she turned to face the man behind her, "And how are you, Colonel Fitzwilliam?"

"Much happier, being allowed to acknowledge your acquaintance," he replied quietly.

"I agree, though I do not think anyone guessed it when we accidentally met in Kent."

"Accidentally? I was there to visit my family. I could not say the same for you."

Elizabeth dropped her voice lower as she glanced around the room, "You forget that I am always working, even while visiting friends and relations. Your aunt's proximity to my friend's home was merely convenient."

Colonel Fitzwilliam reached for the punch bowl as he very quietly said, "I can only imagine your cousin's reaction if he knew he had allowed his wife to invite the woman who ended all of his patroness' grand plans."

Elizabeth turned and watched the colonel's response as she replied, "And you? How do you feel about my intrusion on your aunt's privacy?"

Fitzwilliam smirked as he handed her the glass of punch, "As I understand it, my aunt got a bit too greedy for her own good. She doomed herself to discovery, whether by you or someone else."

Elizabeth felt herself release a breath she had not realised she had been holding. Most would not be as understanding as Colonel Fitzwilliam, and she felt relief that she had not alienated him in particular.

The colonel leaned in to fill his own glass as she replied, "I am grateful that you can see it that way. There is something I must tell you that resulted from my discovery, but I cannot risk being overheard. Shall we walk tomorrow?"

"Certainly. We can meet early enough that no one else should be up. Now, have you a partner for the next set?"

At her negative reply, he requested and was granted her hand for the dances. Their conversation was as entertaining as usual, though Elizabeth needed to bite her tongue to keep from asking after Mr. Darcy. She knew she could not bring him up without confessing her last meetings with him, and she could not do that in a crowded ballroom where they could be heard. Her partner seemed to understand.

As it always did, her dances with Colonel Fitzwilliam made the evening lighter. They had long ago agreed not to make themselves unhappy over each other. She was too poor for his family, and he was too political for her tastes, though they got along so well. Elizabeth had little desire to continue in the fast, public, or political life when her service was over, and the colonel would always belong there. They were great friends, though, and Elizabeth hoped that she would still have opportunities to meet him when she was retired.

Later that evening, Elizabeth changed into a more comfortable day dress and went to sit alone in the library watching clouds move across the moon as she tried to sort through what she had learned that day. Nothing much useful from what she could tell. Mr. Beamish was looking for a new mistress, and though his near proposition of a girl less than half his age made her feel a little ill, she did not think he was a danger to the crown or country. Truly, he was no different from any other man in a position of even the slightest wealth and power. He had tired of his wife and felt entitled to have his fun. No matter that his wife was nearly twenty years his junior.

She felt all the irony of the comparison of him to her own father. While both men had devoted much of their lives to their country, Mr. Beamish as a very visible general in the army and Mr. Bennet as an invisible intelligence gatherer, the first was lauded as a hero while the second had gone into virtual seclusion in disgrace. All because of a single mistake that harmed no one but himself. And now, who was a truly more honorable man?

Elizabeth suddenly saw motion on the grounds; a man was walking from the house toward the trees a few hundred yards away. The clouds cleared the nearly full moon, and she thought it looked like Mr. Beamish. She looked to the treeline, but could see nothing. Where would he be heading this late in the night? She wanted to follow him, but knew she was no match for him alone in her present condition.

She searched her memory of the house, and knew that Colonel Fitzwilliam's rooms were on the wall that met at the corner she was on, but facing away from her view. He had balcony access, however.

Elizabeth flew out of her chair and up the closest stairwell as fast as her ribs would let her her. She nearly skidded to a halt outside the colonel's door and tapped a quick but quiet knock. She counted a half a minute, and then knocked again. She was on the verge of bursting in when he answered the door in his breeches, linen shirt, and stocking feet. Elizabeth did a quick glance around the hall, then shoved her way past him and dragged him with her.

"Whoa, Miss Lizzy!" the colonel cried. "What are you about?"

"Shush! I am not here to ravish you. I think Mr. Beamish is about to do something that I want to see, and I am in no shape to go alone. Put your boots on and hurry!" she replied as she went to his balcony door and let herself out.

Fitzwilliam quickly obeyed and then followed her out.

"How do you plan to get down?" he whispered.

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, "How do you think I get in and out of everywhere?"

She proceeded to climb over the ledge of the balcony rail and disappear from view. Fitzwilliam looked over, but did not see her on the ground. He heard scuffling and saw her clinging to the wall under the window, finding footholds and moving swiftly down. He watched her in amazement for a minute or two, and then crawled over the side himself. He clung to the outside of the balcony until he was on the underside and then let himself drop the full floor height to the ground. He landed with a thump and turned to watch Elizabeth drop the last few feet herself, wincing as she caught herself on silent feet.

"I probably should not have done that," she whispered breathlessly as she she led him to the treeline off the corner of the house. She ducked inside the first line and proceeded to move swiftly through them, Fitzwilliam close on her heels.

"Did you not just say that is how you always get down?"

"Aye, but I generally do not have recently broken ribs. I would not have attempted it, but I know this house has excellent footholds and we are in a hurry."

"How did you break your ribs?"

"Your cousin, Darcy, tackled me."

"Why the devil did he do that?" Fitzwilliam demanded to know.

"I was sneaking around his study after dark a few weeks ago. He caught me digging through his safe. He thought I was a burglar."

"Why on earth were you there?"

Elizabeth slowed long enough to turn and look at him with a wry expression, "What did you think would happen when your aunt was caught blackmailing Lord Liverpool's man? Do not worry, your parents, brother, and cousin have all been cleared of suspicion. Now be quiet, we are getting close."

She needn't have admonished him. Fitzwilliam was too surprised, and then too busy berating himself for his failure to see the obvious to speak. Of course she would be required to investigate Lady Catherine's closest relatives. No one was safe from the War Office since Lord Liverpool had been there. He believed in keeping everyone in line with a firm hand, and by any means necessary.

Elizabeth slowed and began to move more cautiously, nearly silent on her feet. Fitzwilliam tried to follow her example, though he was slightly less successful. They walked that way for several minutes before they came across Mr. Beamish's path of boot-crushed underbrush and followed it.

They slowed further when they heard voices ahead, coming as close as they dared. Beamish was arguing with another man, and they were just able to make out what was being said.

"He be growing impatient, though. Banister don't care that you've gone to the country. He's threatening to find someone else if we don't get him information faster. War is everywhere. He don't have time for house parties."

"He is dealing with British peers and their sons. He will need to learn patience, for not even the threat of Bonaparte ends their leisure," said a disgusted Mr. Beamish. "They do not take the Emperor seriously enough, and will fall to him in the end. He is unbeatable. I fully intend to be on the right side when it happens. This letter should help that; Lord Liverpool himself was in the room this morning."

That was enough for Elizabeth. She motioned with her hands for Fitzwilliam to stay put while she went around the pair and trapped them between. She mimicked whistling with her fingers as their signal to attack and capture both, making it clear that they needed the men alive.

Elizabeth made her way silently through the trees, keeping the men's chatter close enough to know if they were done speaking. She felt for a decent-sized stick that she could use as a weapon on her way. She reached the other side just as they made sounds of parting. She whistled and launched herself into the small clearing. She whacked the unidentified man across the back of the neck as hard as she could, dropping him to the ground. She dropped on top of him immediately and pressed her knee into his back. She yanked his hands behind him, holding his arms slightly up to prevent him from overpowering her. She looked up to see Colonel Fitzwilliam tackling Mr. Beamish to the ground.

"Good work, Colonel."

"Not too bad yourself. I am not so sure you needed me, though I am glad you brought me along." He looked down at the man squirming beneath him and asked, "Now what?"

"Do you happen to have something to tie them up with?" she asked.

Fitzwilliam looked around for a moment before shaking his head.

"Well then, I would appreciate if you would avert your eyes for a moment."

He complied, and Elizabeth used her free hand to untie her garters and slide her stockings down one leg at a time while continuing to hold down the man she had hit. She slipped each shoe off and removed her stockings, then replaced each shoe and recovered her legs with her skirts.

"You may look," she told him, and as soon as he glanced up she tossed a stocking and garter to him. "That should do it," she said.

His eyes widened momentarily, and then he grinned and went about tying the wrists of the man under him. "Do you need any help with yours?" he asked.

She shook her head in negative and then yanked the man's arms straight up behind him, causing him to cry out, but weakening his leverage to the point where she could control his wrists and tie them.

"How are you going to get him up and control him?"

Elizabeth hummed in response as she dug through the man's pockets for the letter, stumbling upon a pistol in the process. "Ah, I believe I shall do just fine," she said as she pulled it out and showed the colonel. She finished digging for the letter and tucked it into her pocket.

"Will you be able to control Mr. Beamish?" she asked. Fitzwilliam nodded, and then Elizabeth pressed the pistol to her man's back as she took a hold of his tied wrists.

"Get up," she commanded. When he did not comply, she continued, "I have shot a man before, so do not think I am too delicate to do so." She did not see the need to clarify that it was only once, and in the leg. While that man had walked with a limp afterward, he had survived.

"I thought you were a lady," Mr. Beamish sneered as his partner complied.

"I am a lady, and one of many talents. I thought you were a patriot. It looks as though we have both been disappointed tonight," she replied calmly.

Fitzwilliam yanked Mr. Beamish off the ground and then followed her. They reached the house and tied the men to chairs in the library. Elizabeth stayed with them while the colonel went to wake Lords Bathurst and Liverpool to see what was to be done with them.

The earls shuffled sleepily into the the library, followed by the colonel. When Liverpool saw the retired general, his face turned to surprise followed by confusion.

"Who are you, and why is Mr. Beamish tied to a chair?" he demanded to know.

Elizabeth removed the letter from her pocket and handed it over to Lord Bathurst as she replied, "I am Thomas Bennet's daughter. I am sure you need no more explanation than that. Lord Bathurst, if you could read that aloud, sir, I believe you will find the answers Lord Liverpool seeks."

Bathurst gave her a considering look, then complied. The letter was as incriminating as Elizabeth had hoped. It detailed the entire meeting that had taken place the morning before.

"Do you care to explain this, Mr. Beamish?" Lord Bathurst asked.

"It is my notes of our meeting, sir. That is all," the man replied with a smug glance in Elizabeth's direction.

"I am sure that you gave it to this man," Elizabeth indicated the stranger, "for safekeeping?"

"You are questioning the integrity of one of Britain's honored generals?" Lord Liverpool interjected. "Miss Bennet, your duty is to seek out traitors, not accuse good men."

Elizabeth looked at him coolly, "Yes, but we both know that truly honorable men have been accused of terrible things. Why should an honored man not be capable of doing those things? If we are mistaken one way, I think it more, not less, likely we are also mistaken the other."

Lord Liverpool gave her his own cool look.

"Why do we not let the man answer for himself?" Lord Bathurst interrupted. "While I do not wish to accuse an innocent man, we cannot be too careful."

They all turned to look at Mr. Beamish again.

"He is one of my groomsmen, and is tasked with taking copies of important documents to my house in London," Mr. Beamish said calmly.

Elizabeth looked to the stranger, "What is your name, groomsman?"

"Ah, Donner, miss," was his short reply. He would not look her in the eye.

"And who is Banister?" she asked.

He cringed and glanced at Mr. Beamish. "He is my butler," Mr. Beamish answered.

"Do you care to explain why your butler would be impatient for information when there is war everywhere?" Elizabeth continued.

Donner winced and Mr. Beamish's face turned to stone, "My butler happens to be my confidant as well. I often discuss important matters with him when making decisions."

"And whose side did you say you intend to be on when Britain falls to the unbeatable Bonaparte?" Elizabeth asked. "I believe that is how you put it."

Mr. Beamish glared at her, "I said nothing of the sort."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, "You do not have much faith in our leaders, either, do you? I think I heard you say that they are too leisurely in their action and do not take Bonaparte seriously."

Mr. Beamish did not answer.

"Mr. Beamish, have you thrown your lot in with the French?" Lord Liverpool asked bluntly.

"Of course not. I cannot believe you are taking this wench seriously. Who did she say she is? She cannot come from a respectable family if she is chasing after men unattended. If her morals are that loose, she cannot be reliable."

"She was not unattended and she comes from an excellent family," Colonel Fitzwilliam said as he stepped forward. Mr. Beamish started and Elizabeth saw a hint of fear on his face for the first time. "You must know that I heard as much as Miss Bennet. Are you going to question my respectability as your defense as well? You may want to be careful; it is not likely you will get far."

"Well Beamish?" Lord Bathurst queried. Stony silence was his only response.

Lord Bathurst turned to the other man, "Mr. Donner, are you more willing to speak?"

Mr. Beamish turned a glare on his partner, and Donner paled before saying, "I do not have anything to say, sir."

Lord Liverpool, looking very unhappy, stepped in, "You may want to rethink that answer. I am sure you are aware that the penalty for treason is death. I may be willing to commute that to transportation if you help us capture the man this letter was intended for."

When Donner looked as though he was about to speak, Mr. Beamish reached out a leg and kicked him. Colonel Fitzwilliam stepped forward and pulled Mr. Beamish away from Donner as he said, "I am not sure what you are hoping to accomplish, but you are looking guiltier by the minute."

"Colonel, wake Apsley and gather a few good men." Lord Bathurst requested. "I think we will be better served in separating these two, and I trust my son to keep Mr. Beamish contained."

Elizabeth stepped back and more to the shadows while they waited. She stayed in the background while Lord Apsley and his men came and took Mr. Beamish to Lord Bathurst's study to wait. The viscount gave her a brief smile when he noticed her, but his men paid her no attention. Elizabeth was grateful that she had changed from her delicate white into her forest green, and that her dark hair naturally blended into the shadows. It was better if they did not see her.

Lord Liverpool waited until Lord Apsley and his men had left, then turned back to Donner. "Now Mr. Donner, I am hoping that you will cooperate with us. I can keep you safe from Beamish and anything he might have done to you, but if you do not give us the information we seek, I can guarantee that you will see the noose."

"Would it be Australia or America, sir?" Donner asked.

"If your information is good enough, I may be so benevolent as to let you choose."

Donner was quiet.

"Was there something else you wished to ask?" Lord Bathurst asked.

"If there was someone I wished to be taking with me, would you allow it?" he finally asked.

"Again, if you are helpful enough," replied Lord Liverpool.

Donner nodded, took a deep breath, and spoke, "Banister be a Frenchman. He been coming to London for a time now, getting information on anything he can. Beamish hired me to run for him, taking information to Banister, and I been doing it for about a year now."

"Do you know what you have been giving him for information?" Lord Liverpool asked.

Donner shook his head enthusiastically, "No sir. I don't know nothing of what's in those letters."

"But you knew that it was helping the French against your home country?" asked Lord Bathurst.

Donner's face fell, and he replied with a quiet, "Yes, sir."

"And you did not think anything wrong with that?" demanded Lord Liverpool.

"It was good money, sir, and I did not think it would matter in the end."

The earls stared at him suspiciously for a few minutes before Lord Bathurst asked, "How do you contact this Banister?"

"He's at the same public house every day when in Town. He knows I'm coming to see him when I arrive with a doxy on my arm."

"And do you know if he has others who contact him this way?"

"Aye. It's his normal way."

"How did you contact him the first time?"

"The same way."

"He trusts strangers right off?" Lord Bathurst asked incredulously.

"Well, that is what the doxy is for, you see. You write down what you need Banister to know, and you put it in the doxy's bodice. Banister approaches you, and you offer her services. He takes the girl to a private room and checks the information. If he is satisfied, he sends her back out with the payment. That way, if he don't like what you sent or if he don't like you, he can just leave out the back. He won't take you any other way. Beamish found it out and taught me what to do."

Lord Bathurst looked up to the other men, "So we need to find a doxy we can trust."

"I think we already have one," Lord Liverpool replied, looking at Elizabeth.

* * *

 _A/N: I apologize for the delay on this one. I've been trying to get us back to Darcy again, but this chapter was already much longer than the rest, and I wanted to get it published. He'll be back in the next!_

 _Thanks again for all of your lovely reviews._


	6. Chapter 6

(6)

Elizabeth watched Lord Liverpool thoughtfully as Lord Bathurst spoke up on her behalf, "Now, Liverpool, I promised Miss Bennet's father to do everything I could to keep her reputation intact. I do not think running around London dressed as a strumpet is a good idea."

"The daughter of Thomas Bennet is fortunate to have a place in society at all," Lord Liverpool replied with a cold look toward her. "If he would not have cowardly offered up a girl when I demanded a man's service, she would not be in this position. It is his own fault."

"You know as well as I do that Bennet was in no position to resume his prior duties. His daughter volunteered, and she has turned out to be an excellent advantage in our efforts. Why would you risk ruining her now?"

"To catch a man who is taking our detailed strategies to the French? I would risk a great deal."

Lord Bathurst looked decidedly uncomfortable, as though he agreed with Lord Liverpool, but felt a responsibility toward Elizabeth that could not be overlooked. Elizabeth chose to relieve his mind and spoke up.

"I appreciate your concern on my behalf, Lord Henry. My father would be grateful as well. However, I do agree that catching this Banister is worth a great deal. I am willing to consider it," she said, turning a calculating look at Lord Liverpool.

He narrowed his eyes, "I do not think you are in a place to make demands, young lady."

Elizabeth smiled sweetly, "I have no demands other than your guarantee that I will have fulfilled my father's duty by performing this task."

Lord Liverpool shrugged, "I still expect your service until Michaelmas."

"You have always left the condition of my fulfilling the duty to your satisfaction as part of the agreement. I would like you to promise, in front of both of these well-respected and honorable men, that I will be given my father's letters and my release as promised if I aid in the capture of Banister," she stated.

It was Lord Liverpool's turn to give Elizabeth a calculating look, "You do not trust that I will otherwise?"

"I believe that you will sacrifice nearly anything to maintain control of your situation."

"You are correct about that," the earl replied. "You must see there is a certain greater good to be protected at the expense of a few."

"I do not think those few would always agree if you asked them."

"You have my word," Lord Liverpool replied after a short silence.

Elizabeth looked to Lord Bathurst and Colonel Fitzwilliam, "Will you stand as my witness to his word, if necessary?"

Both gentlemen contained their surprise at her boldness, but assented.

"Colonel, you will accompany me town?" Elizabeth asked. At his nod, she turned to Lord Bathurst, "May I count on Lord Apsley as well?"

"Yes, he shall be made available to you. What, may I ask, is your plan?"

Elizabeth smiled, "To protect our country and keep my reputation. I presume Miss Piper still attends Lady Emily?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam grinned as Lord Bathurst replied, "Yes, and you may have her as well. You mean to go through with this fully, then?"

"I do, but I have no intention of risking my life and limb completely, nor ruining my future. With Miss Piper's assistance, I should not be recognised by my own mother, with Lord Apsley and his men, we should not need to risk losing Banister, and with Colonel Fitzwilliam at my side, I shall be safe enough."

* * *

Colonel Fitzwilliam and Viscount Apsley dropped Elizabeth, Miss Piper, and Lady Emily Bathurst at the Bathurst townhouse and proceeded to their separate destinations to prepare for the event to happen several days hence.

The colonel travelled a few short streets over to his parents' house and left his horse with the groomsman. He was in deep thought as he walked up to the door and he nearly collided with his cousin Darcy, who was on his way out.

"Richard!" Darcy exclaimed. "I thought you were on duty."

"I was. I am," a startled colonel replied.

Darcy looked at his cousin curiously and commented, "It is not like you to be caught off guard."

"I apologise, cousin. I have much on my mind. Did you need something from me?"

Darcy gave his cousin a strange look, "I do not wish to distract you from whatever it is that has such a hold on you, but if you have time, I have two matters I would speak with you about."

The colonel gave his head a little shake and then focused his attention on his cousin, "I have time, just now. What do you need?"

"Will you come to Darcy House? I do not wish for our conversation to be overheard."

"Did you walk?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked in reply. At Darcy's nod, they turned and walked across the square.

Once they were settled into Darcy's study, Fitzwilliam asked, "What is it you wish to know?"

"Our aunt's steward, Mr. Wright, do you know who recommended him? I believe your father does, but he was evasive and would not tell me."

"Why? the man not doing what is expected of him?"

Darcy frowned, "That was the same question your father asked, and then he did not fully answer any other ones. Mr. Wright is well able to do his duty. I merely wished to know why Lady Catherine would tolerate an attitude bordering on insubordination from a member of her staff. I found it quite odd."

"We all know that Rosings is not in very good condition. Perhaps she is finally aware enough of it and does not want to find herself in ruin."

Darcy stood quickly and began to pace. He felt as though everyone else knew what was going on and no one trusted him enough to tell him. Why did it need to be such a secret?

"That is precisely what your father said. Why will no one tell me what is going on? It almost seems as though he is there against Aunt Catherine's will, and that she has no power to dismiss him. I cannot fathom that this would be the case, but there is no other explanation that I can see."

When Colonel Fitzwilliam continued in his silence, Darcy turned and stared at him. He suddenly asked, "Will you tell me, Richard, had you met Miss Elizabeth Bennet before this past March?"

Fitzwilliam, startled again by his cousin and caught off guard by being asked about the very woman who had him so distracted, did not need to answer. It was written across his face.

"You did know her! I thought you had acted differently around her than I am used to seeing you with ladies. Why would you try to hide your acquaintance? What do you know about her?" Darcy eyed his cousin carefully for a moment, and then an idea dawned on him. "You work for the War Office! Would you be in a position to know if they would ever employ ladies to spy for them?"

Colonel Fitzwilliam realised that Darcy must have been deducing, from what little he had been exposed to, what Elizabeth had been about. He should have known his intelligent cousin would make the connection quickly.

"I think you know the answer to that already," he responded quietly, knowing he would not be able to fudge his way out of it.

Darcy collapsed back into his seat and said, "So it is true."

Silence reigned for several minutes.

Darcy looked up, "I did not quite believe, when she first explained, but I have had some time to think, and I am beginning to. She was able to slip into Pemberley unnoticed, without any signs of forced entry. She was able to break into my safe, one of the most secure you can acquire, yet, she took nothing of value. Why would someone do that, if not for information?"

Fitzwilliam was surprised again, "What did Miss Bennet tell you?"

"She told me that she is not a thief, though it looked otherwise, and that she has little to no choice about what she is doing."

Fitzwilliam looked at Darcy carefully, "What do you intend to do with your information?"

"Do?" Darcy asked, "There is nothing I can do, other than torture myself with questions."

"You will not expose her, then?"

"I have no intention of telling anyone. I briefly considered it before she explained that she is not a thief. Now that I know she is acting lawfully, I will not. I have no desire to ruin her reputation."

When his cousin sighed with relief, Darcy asked with concern, "Has she been coerced into her position?"

At his cousin's nod, he asked, "Why?"

Fitzwilliam hesitated, "I do not think it is my place to share that with you, as it is a secret very dear to Miss Bennet. I can tell you, however, that she is highly valued by the men who work with her, and that her reasons for being there were caused by someone else."

"Why has someone like you or her father not protected her?" Darcy demanded.

"Her father tried, and she would have none of it. You need to understand, Darcy, the man who has a hold on her is much more powerful than you or me. We do what we can to keep her safe, but she will fulfill her duty. Surely, you can understand that."

Darcy nodded and, though unsatisfied, he recognised his cousin would not say more. "I do not suppose you can tell me why she was at Pemberley, can you?" he asked.

Fitzwilliam relieved his mind on that account as well, though he was vague. "She was there because the Secretary had reason to believe you might be involved in illegal activities. You are cleared of suspicion now, if that is your next question."

"She hinted as much." Darcy was thoughtful, and then asked, "Is Lady Catherine in trouble?"

Fitzwilliam felt his brow lift involuntarily, giving himself away again. He sighed; Elizabeth would not be proud of him. He smiled slightly at his cousin, "Perhaps we should employ you as an interrogator. You are relieving me of my information with alarming ease.

"Aunt Catherine has got herself into a bit of a mess through her own high-handedness, but she is not in the sort of trouble one would normally find oneself if Miss Elizabeth were involved, thankfully. You are correct that Mr. Wright is now there to keep her in line. He came _highly_ recommended by someone who is more than a little angry with her, and who has significantly more social power than our dear aunt. She was required to accept him or face public exposure and disgrace. I presume he is doing well, then?"

"Better than she has ever had, from what I saw. He stands his ground when she makes demands. There is no grovelling from him. I say he will do very well indeed."

Their conversation continued on their aunt's new steward until the colonel left. Though he was not satisfied by what Fitzwilliam had told him of Elizabeth, Darcy sensed his cousin would answer nothing further. He felt it left him with even more questions than he had before, and he paced his study while trying to reason out the answers.

Her letter had indicated that she was in her position in order to protect her family. With Fitzwilliam's information, he now suspected that someone had been in trouble, and Elizabeth had stepped forward to shoulder the responsibility for them. Her father certainly knew what she was about, but was he the cause? Who else in her family could have done something so terrible that she felt the need to risk her reputation and very life to protect them? It must have been something unlawful to capture the attention of the War Office.

He supposed it could be someone related to her who did not live at Longbourn, but he had got the impression from her letter that it was someone who did.

While her mother and younger sisters were foolish, he could not imagine them doing anything that would attract the attention of authorities. He could not see Jane Bennet doing anything wrong at all, though he supposed his poor reading of her feelings should give him pause in his judgement now. Still, what could a young gentlewoman do that would be so terrible?

He had not paid much attention to Mr. Bennet when he had been in Hertfordshire, other than to note that he appeared to be an indolent man who walked with a serious limp. He recalled noticing that Elizabeth had been the first to assist her father whenever he needed it. She had often been the one to bring him refreshment, and he had noted her offering her arm for support on more than one occasion. In turn, she was the only daughter he had not seen mocked by the father. It spoke to a close relationship between them.

He had assumed a fall, perhaps from a horse, had caused Mr. Bennet's condition, since he had not recalled hearing of a military history of the man. If he had been dishonorable, Darcy supposed they might avoid the topic. That did not correlate to Elizabeth's current occupation, however. Where would she have learned those skills? He could not imagine the War Office taking an innocent, untried girl and turning her into a spy. It seemed like such an effort. It made more sense for her to already have those abilities. Though he could not imagine a father teaching his daughter those things, it was the most logical conclusion. Could it be that Bennet had been a spy before his daughter?

As for what got her in particular into her position, he had no trouble believing that Elizabeth would sacrifice herself for the security of her family. The devotion she gave the people she loved was one of the traits he so admired about her. Even now, knowing what she was, he still felt that admiration.

The physical pain he had felt in his chest last spring, a few weeks after his failed proposal when he had come to grips with his own poor behaviour being the cause, came roaring back. His heart still loved her.

He moved to the window and leaned against the frame for support as he looked out over the people in the street below. He tried to reason with his disobliging heart, to remind it that she was even more impossible of a choice than he had thought her before. Not, this time, because he thought them unequal. No, he had long realised his foolishness there. Now it was her duty that made it impossible.

It did not work.

The despondency he felt was agonising. He closed his eyes against the pain and tried desperately to drive the image of her from his mind.

He failed once again.

No, he would not be forgetting her as she had hoped.

* * *

 _A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews! I appreciate your patience as I try to figure out how to write a spy story that hopefully sounds credible._


	7. Chapter 7

(7)

A few days after their arrival in town, plans were set and Elizabeth spent several hours with Miss Piper, preparing to meet Banister. Watching the maid transform her in the mirror was fascinating, and she would not deny that it was exciting to take on a different identity. There was very little left to recognise of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Carefully applied cosmetics on all of her exposed skin hid her tan, turning her paler than usual. Miss Piper used powders and paints to alter the shape of her face, accenting her cheeks and lips, giving her a sultry, seductive expression. Her brows were coloured to match the flaming-red wig that covered her own dark hair.

The plunging neckline on the gown Lady Emily had found for her was entirely improper, and both ladies blushed at the result. She would need to be cautious if she moved quickly. The combination of the neckline and her strong corset had her nearly bursting out of the top. When they were finished, both women helped Elizabeth don a cloak and carefully pull the hood over her new hair.

A short time later, Colonel Fitzwilliam arrived and escorted both Elizabeth and Miss Piper to the coach he had rented. He handed Elizabeth the false letter and gave her and Miss Piper a few minutes alone in the coach to work it into the bodice of her dress.

"Well Miss Scarlet, are you prepared for an adventure?" he asked as he entered and sat.

Elizabeth smirked, fluttered her lashes, and answered in the sultry voice she had been practicing, "Oh darling, there is no need for formalities with me. Just Scarlet will do."

Fitzwilliam grinned, "I do believe you are ready."

He filled her in then on where Lord Apsley had placed his men. They went over the layout of building one more time, trying to give the Elizabeth a better feel for a place she had not entered. They had not wanted to risk her visiting beforehand, so the viscount had sent one of his men for the details.

Their coach turned onto an alley a couple of streets away from the public house where they were headed and stopped. Elizabeth took a deep breath and then removed her cloak with the help of Miss Piper. Colonel Fitzwilliam disembarked and helped Elizabeth down. She took the Fitzwilliam's arm and they walked along the street to their destination. As they entered, she pressed herself against him, acting her part.

A barmaid came over as they sat, Elizabeth practically on top of Fitzwilliam, "Welcome to the White Horse. Can I getcha anything?"

Fitzwilliam ordered drinks for each of them, and when she left them he muttered in Elizabeth's ear, "I hope your father never hears about this. I have no desire to be called out."

Elizabeth let out an indelicate laugh and slapped his arm, then whispered back, "I hope he does not either, for I am quite certain he would not approve of today's plans."

They switched to speaking aloud, talking back and forth and making bawdier comments as they went. Elizabeth found herself highly amused, yet a little appalled at her own ability to say things a lady should not. She could see the laughter in Colonel Fitzwilliam's eyes as well. While he had been with her many times in the past, it was usually as a dance partner, filling each other in on information and behaving properly. Elizabeth was very used to working alone. This was new, but she found it surprisingly comfortable. She was just imagining them having grown up as brother and sister, and the trial they would have been for her mother, when a man dropped into the seat across the table from them, ending their banter.

"You have not been here before?" he queried abruptly with a slight accent.

Elizabeth turned her face into Colonel Fitzwilliam's collar to keep her eyes from assessing the man as Fitzwilliam replied, "I have not."

The man nodded in Elizabeth's direction. "The girl, is she available?"

"To the right buyer, for the right price."

She looked at the man she assumed to be Banister as he replied with a lewd grin, "Is she worth it?"

Elizabeth swept her eyes over him then, careful to keep her look curious and enticing, not calculating.

"I have found her satisfying," Fitzwilliam replied.

Banister eyed her bodice, "I am not accustomed to being dictated a price. I will try her and then I will tell you her value."

When she shuddered slightly from the revulsion she felt toward the man across the table, Fitzwilliam tightened the arm around her gently in reassurance. The anticipatory excitement was quickly wearing off as she felt a little ill at the hungry look in the man's eyes. She got the feeling he would not simply take the letter and leave her alone.

"Are you so important that you always get what you want?"

The man looked back at Colonel Fitzwilliam's face with a smirk, "You will find no friends here. I take what I want because I am Banister, and I can."

He reached his arm out for Elizabeth and beckoned her. When she stood too slowly he snapped, "Come, wench. I wish to see what you have for me. If you wish to be paid, do not make me wait."

When she walked toward him, he grabbed her roughly by the arm and yanked her to him. She found her revulsion quickly changing to anger at his treatment of her, but she plastered a seductive smile on her face. "You shall not be disappointed," she purred.

"I will be the judge of that," he replied sharply as he pulled her along toward the back of the establishment.

Elizabeth forced herself not to look back at Fitzwilliam, but rather pushed against Banister and allowed her hand to wander across his torso a little, feeling for weapons. He brushed her away, "I will do the exploring. You will do as you are told."

They reached the last door along the hall and entered. She glanced around, noting the over-sized window that would make an easy escape. She saw a fireplace with tools, a bureau with nothing on top, and finally the bed. She would not be touching that, if she could help it.

Banister shoved her from behind, knocking her into the bureau. A sharp pain shot through her ribs, but she bit off the gasp before it could escape. She schooled her face to hide the pain, and withdrew the letter as she turned around.

Banister's eyes grew angry when he saw what was in her outstretched hand. "You should not have done that," he said harshly as he snapped it out of her hand and placed it inside his jacket. "I prefer the thrill of the search, and I am not pleased that you have taken that from me. You promised me satisfaction, and now I will need to find it in other ways that will not be as pleasant for you."

Elizabeth took a calming breath, feeling relief that he had confirmed his identity and willingly taken the letter. They had their man.

He stalked the few steps toward her with ill-intent in his eyes. She suspected he would be ruthless and cruel if she failed to escape him. She hoped she did not end up regretting having put herself in this position.

She waited until he reached a hand up to grab her and ducked to the side, throwing herself forward and slamming her shoulder into his stomach. He hissed out a breath and slammed his elbow down to the back of her head. She had anticipated retaliation, and had begun to turn as she rolled to the floor, causing his arm to graze past her shoulder. She threw herself toward the fireplace as he roared and dove after her, streaming a string of curses.

She could hear the doorknob jiggling and then a fist pounded on the door. It must have been locked, preventing Fitzwilliam from coming to her aid. A hint of fear was beginning to grow in her.

Banister grabbed her by the ankle and began hauling her back toward him. She flipped onto her back, feeling her wig begin to shift but hold, and saw him reach into his jacket and withdraw a knife. Elizabeth felt a little rush of panic before she squashed it down and pulled her other leg back to slam her booted heel into his thigh. She could not countenance losing control of this fight to such a man, with help not immediately coming, and therefore refused to consider what would happen if she did.

Her strike to his thigh was enough to push him back and it forced his grip on her boot to loosen. She took advantage and jerked herself from his grasp. He launched himself back forward, but she dropped her feet down and used one as leverage and the other to kick his knife hand with everything she had.

His knife went flying and he cursed at her again. She scooted backward and reached behind her for the fireplace poker as he stomped down on the skirt of her dress, tearing part of the seam at her waist. She grasped the poker handle, however, and jumped up with weapon in hand. Her skirt continued to tear and restricted her movement, but she was able to get her footing and swung the poker around. Banister flung his arm up to stop her, striking her forearm with his own. He reached up and slapped her across the face. Though it stung, he was too close to knock the sense out of her.

"You are a wily one, aren't you, wench? You find yourself a disappointment often?" he snarled, as he pulled back to strike her again.

Elizabeth realised that she needed to end this fight quickly. Her element of surprise was gone, and if he had not already, he would soon realise that she was not just a doxy. She brought her knee up with everything she had before he could hit her. He howled in pain and pulled the foot up that was trapping her skirt. She brought her free hand up and slammed her palm directly into his nose before taking a step back and swinging the edge of the poker into his side. He dropped to a knee, putting his head directly in line with the bedpost. She the thrust the poker at his eye, forcing his head against the bedpost to avoid it being gouged. He glared at her, but did not move while blood began to run out of his nose.

She smiled sweetly and controlled the shaking in her voice. "Generally, I am found to be a surprise, albeit not always a pleasant one."

Her chest was heaving with every breath, but her bodice had managed to contain her. Colonel Fitzwilliam burst through the door, pistol drawn. He stopped when he realised she had their quarry subdued.

Clearly wishing to say more, but not willing to risk her identity, he simply asked, "Are you well?"

"Well enough, and he willingly took the letter. Tie him up, please," she requested.

Fitzwilliam nodded, tucked his pistol away, and pulled out a length of twine. Elizabeth kept her poker a hairsbreadth from Banister's eye. When Fitzwilliam pulled his arms behind him and began tying, Banister let out another stream of curses and insults directed at Elizabeth.

Fitzwilliam pulled hard on the man's arms as he finished tying and said sharply, "She is a respectable lady, and you will treat her as such."

"Bah! Respectable? Is that what you English call respectable? A girl who fights with men?"

Elizabeth glared at him. "A lady who beats scoundrels," she snapped in reply.

Fitzwilliam grinned at her, then moved to the window to waive Lord Apsley and his men in. They made short work of hauling Banister out to a waiting coach, with the viscount and a few of his men riding along to deliver him to Lord Liverpool.

Elizabeth tugged on Fitzwilliam's arm, "Come, I do not want to be too late."

He looked at her in surprise, "For what?"

She gave him an exasperated look, "The delivery of our package to the Prime Minister. I wish to be there."

Fitzwilliam hesitated.

"I realise that I am a mess and it is a risk to continue to be out in this costume, but I do not trust him to give credit where it is due. Besides, I shall have my cloak in a moment."

Fitzwilliam nodded, and they hurried back to their own coach. He helped her in and then spoke to the driver while Miss Piper assisted her back into her cloak and pinned her skirt up. Though still uncomfortable with the state of her dress underneath, Elizabeth felt much better tucked securely behind buttons that went to her throat.

Fitzwilliam joined them a moment later and tapped on the roof.

He sighed then, and looked at her, "Are you truly well, Miss Bennet? He did not harm you?"

Elizabeth replied, "I shall be bruised for a few days, but no, he did not do any serious harm. Thankfully he was not prepared for me to attack him, which gave me the advantage at first. I am grateful it has been a full month since my ribs were damaged. While they are a bit sore now, I do not think they will suffer any ill effects."

"Thank God. I have never been so terrified as when I realised the door was locked. I feel like such an idiot for not thinking of that."

"I did not think of it either. I had foolishly assumed that he would only be interested in the information I carried, and not in myself."

"We put you into an unacceptable position, and we are incredibly lucky that you came out unscathed. I shall be eternally grateful that I will not be required to inform your father that I allowed you to be defiled by a French spy."

"I am grateful as well, for both our sakes."

It was slow going to Westminster at that time of day, but they arrived at the quiet side entrance nearly at the same time as Lord Apsley's coach. Miss Piper stayed behind again as Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth joined the group headed to Lord Liverpool's office. Elizabeth kept her hood pulled close to her face to hide her wild hair and painted cheeks as best she could.

"Is this him, then?" Lord Liverpool asked, nodding to the bound and now gagged Banister, as soon as the door was closed.

"It is, my lord," replied Colonel Fitzwilliam.

"How can you be sure?"

"He named himself and willingly took the letter," Elizabeth answered.

"Ah, Miss Elizabeth. I see you have followed through on your promise. Have you come to insure I keep mine?"

Elizabeth raised a brow, but did not choose to answer.

Lord Liverpool smiled condescendingly, "Do not worry, I do not intend to hold you longer than your three years. I have heard more of your contributions in the last week, and I am satisfied that you will have fulfilled what was required of your father."

"I am pleased to hear it," Elizabeth replied shortly.

He nodded, then turned to Lord Apsley, "Take him to the War Office, and have Bathurst's aide find somewhere secure to keep him. I prefer to have him questioned by the staff there. Be quiet about it. I would rather no one else know we have him yet."

Lord Apsley bowed, then gathered Banister and left.

"I imagine you will be reporting to Lord Bathurst as well, but I would appreciate any other information you gathered today now, rather than waiting for it to come through him."

They spoke then of their suspicions that the White Horse's owner knew Banister, and possibly what he was about. Lord Liverpool requested that they investigate it further, along with finding out where the spy had been living, in case of a connection there as well. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam left, heading back out the side door from whence they came.

They were halfway to the coach when a voice called out, "Richard!"

Colonel Fitzwilliam hesitated before he turned, knowing he needed to get Elizabeth out of public in her current state of dress. The other man was obviously too close to credibly have missed hearing, however, and he could not be rude.

Elizabeth made the mistake of looking directly at the man as they turned, meeting his curious eyes before she realised who he was and quickly turned her face to the side in an attempt to hide it.

"Hullo, Darcy," Fitzwilliam greeted casually. "What can I do for you, cousin?"

If Darcy had been a little surprised to see his cousin leaving the Houses of Parliament, he was shocked to see him in the company of a woman of ill repute, especially in such a public place. Was he purposely trying to earn a reputation as a bounder?

Darcy glanced back at Richard, gathering his scattered thoughts. "I had hoped to speak with you about our discussion from the other night, when you are available. I see that you are busy, however," he replied, feeling a little disgusted with his cousin, and allowing it to show on his face.

Darcy, having just determined not to acknowledge the woman's presence, found himself drawn back to the eyes that he realised had seemed familiar. He caught her glancing at him again as well, and he felt his knees weaken in shock as he realised he did know those eyes.

"My God," he breathed. "Miss Be—" a gloved hand clapped over his mouth, cutting him off.

How had she moved so fast?

"There is no need for such formality with me, Mr. Darcy," she purred, but with pleading in her eyes and a quick glance to the side, reminding him that there were people around. "Just Scarlet will do."

She allowed her hood to fall partially back, and he saw the red hair. He nodded slightly, and she mouthed "Thank you," then stepped back. He thought he could see her blushing furiously, even through the smudged paint on her skin, as she stared at his feet. He looked back to his cousin for an explanation.

Fitzwilliam sighed, "Here is not the place. Join us in our coach?"

"Alone?" he asked sharply.

Fitzwilliam rolled his eyes. "I am not that careless."

Darcy nodded, then followed the pair over to a waiting hackney. He watched while Fitzwilliam helped Elizabeth in, still reeling from the surprise of seeing Miss Elizabeth Bennet dressed so indelicately and feeling more than a little mortified himself.

How many more shocks would he receive in regards to this woman?


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: I've edited the last chapter some and changed the tone of Elizabeth's fight. I realized I needed her to come out of there a little more upset with what had happened to set the tone for this one. Thanks to the reviewers who made me aware of that. If you do not want to reread it, just know that she was more consciously aware of the danger she had been in._

 _I also made a slight adjustment to Chapter 3. I agree with the posters who have pointed out that Darcy should be upset that he harmed her. I added a few lines to the middle to give us that. I had planned to just have him bring it up when they meet again, but with us being privy to his thoughts, we would already know._

 _Your feedback has been very helpful, and I thank you for taking the time to note the plot holes and inconsistencies._

* * *

(8)

An uncomfortable silence reigned in the still coach after they settled into their seats.

"Darcy, do you have your coach somewhere near here? Or an appointment you need to keep?" Fitzwilliam finally asked.

Darcy, who had been watching Elizabeth stare out the window, glanced at his cousin. "My driver is likely exercising the horses around St. James Park. There was no appointment. I merely wished to speak with a few of the staff on hand about the parliamentary elections next month," he answered.

Fitzwilliam nodded and left the coach to speak with the driver.

Elizabeth turned to him and asked, "Are you worried about the Catholics?"

Darcy replied stiffly, "No, there were rumblings about labourer rights in the last session. I wish to know who their lords are sponsoring, so I can be prepared for any effect it will have on my tenants. I do not trust the newspapers' speculation."

She replied curiously as Colonel Fitzwilliam re-entered the coach and they began moving, "I thought you did not have any factories on Pemberley's lands?"

"We do not, but we are not far from Manchester. I need to be prepared if there will be a draw because of better working conditions or higher wages than there are now."

"Is it common for you to lose tenants to other regions?" she asked.

"No, but there are always those who are discontented and seek to find their fortunes elsewhere."

Elizabeth nodded and turned her face back toward the window. He had grown stiffer with each reply. If he had held himself any more rigidly, he would have turned to stone. She sighed to herself. Any hope that he was not completely horrified by her was lost. What he hoped to accomplish by riding with them, other than to show her his disgust, she did not know.

"Now Darcy, there is a very reasonable explanation for why Miss Bennet looks as she does," Fitzwilliam said awkwardly.

Darcy interrupted him, "I would prefer to have this conversation in private."

"We are in a moving coach. No one can hear you, I am sure," Elizabeth replied dryly.

Darcy cleared his throat and looked uncomfortably at Miss Piper.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes slightly as she said, "Miss Piper is my companion for propriety's sake. I realise it may be difficult for you to believe in this moment, but I prefer to maintain that. She is trustworthy and will not gossip."

Darcy hesitated before he asked coldly, "Then would you please tell me why it was necessary for you to be out in such a public place risking your reputation in such an improper costume where anyone could recognise you?"

"I am covered with a cloak, you cannot see what I am wearing," Elizabeth replied shortly.

"But I can see your face. Not only is it painted indecently, but it is smudged. It is clear you have not merely been out walking. I can easily imagine the rest, and so can anyone else."

"I was not supposed to be known, even if I were seen. That was half the point of dressing so ridiculously," she replied defensively.

"Yet I did know you."

"Must I beg for your secrecy?" she cried.

"Of course not, I would not expose you so."

"Then why are you scolding me?" she asked, her frustration growing.

"I wish to know why you would take such a terrible risk!"

"Sometimes duty asks uncomfortable things of us. Surely you can understand that."

"Why are you so attached to this duty?" Darcy demanded. "What could possibly be worth your ruination and your family's disgrace that you sacrifice all decency?"

Elizabeth replied hotly, "It is for my family's honor that I do it!"

"So you seek to keep your family's honor by risking it? You make no _sense_!"

"Just because something does not make sense to _you_ does not make it irrational! Your judgement is not infallible!" she cried.

"Clearly, neither is yours!" he thundered.

They stared at each other in silent indignation for several uncomfortable moments.

"I do not see why it matters," Elizabeth finally said coldly. "My ruination would have no impact on _you_."

For a fleeting moment, Elizabeth thought she saw pain flash in his eyes. It was gone, though, nearly as fast as it came. The stony mask resurfaced, and she wondered if she had imagined it. She felt some guilt over her harsh words. She had assumed her actions last month would have destroyed any remaining feelings that her rather cruel rejection in April had not. She had mistaken his stiff condescension for dislike in the past, had she not learned from that?

They stopped and Darcy nearly leapt out of the hackney to speak with his driver. Elizabeth was surprised when he re-entered the coach. She had expected him to decamp from her presence immediately.

Fitzwilliam, hoping to settle the conversation down, asked calmly, "How _did_ you know her so easily, Darcy? I would not have known her, she was so well disguised."

"Her eyes," Darcy replied tersely after a moment.

"Her eyes?" Fitzwilliam asked incredulously. "How do you know someone by their eyes? Are you in love with her or something?"

Fitzwilliam's brow rose at the silence and averted faces that greeted him, and he simply said, "Oh."

Elizabeth suddenly felt ill. She was exhausted. Her body ached, and her head was beginning to. She did not have the energy to defend her actions, especially when she knew there was little defense to give. She had been careless today, and she knew she had come too close to a terrible fate. She wanted comfort, not confrontation.

The sight of Banister's cruel face flashed through her mind, and she began to tremble. Never, in all her three years of service, had she wanted to be home so badly.

They rode in silence again, with Elizabeth and Darcy staring resolutely out their windows while Colonel Fitzwilliam glanced between them. He noticed Elizabeth's shivering and he asked quietly, "Miss Bennet, are you well?"

"I shall be well enough," she replied shakily.

Elizabeth saw Darcy turn his face toward her and she glanced back at him. This time she thought she saw concern in his eyes. When he looked away, she saw his expression turn hard once again.

Why was the man so confusing? Could he blame her for mistaking his pride for dislike? Even when he had made his declaration, he had been condescending and bordering on rude. _He_ made no sense.

"Perhaps we should continue this discussion at a better time," Fitzwilliam commented.

Darcy nodded sharply and continued to stare out the window. Elizabeth breathed a sigh of relief.

After what felt like an eternity to her, they stopped in front of the Bathurst's townhouse. She bid Darcy a terse farewell, stopping him from rising to help her, then Colonel Fitzwilliam opened the door and assisted her and Miss Piper down. He ducked his head back in to speak with Darcy, but Elizabeth did not hear what he said.

"Will you be well enough on your own, Miss Bennet?" he asked when he was done.

Elizabeth nodded her head, "Lady Emily is home, and Miss Piper will assist me."

He looked at her for a moment, then nodded.

"I shall do what I can to explain today to Darcy. Perhaps it will be easier from me."

"You can try, though I doubt it will do any good." She glanced at the coach in frustration, "He has said himself that his good opinion, once lost, is lost forever. I do not dare believe any good opinion he had left of me will survive today."

"Darcy can be very decided in his opinions, yes, but he also feels quite protective of the people he cares about."

"He may have once cared for me, Colonel, but I am certain that I have thoroughly extinguished that," she replied with feeling.

He looked to argue, but she held up her hand, "Please, no. I am tired. I bid you a good day, Colonel."

Fitzwilliam acknowledged her good bye, though he did not look happy to do so. He watched until she and Miss Piper entered the house, then left in the hackney.

Lady Emily met them just inside the door with worry in her eyes. She could see that Elizabeth did not want to speak of it, and simply offered her help. Between her and Miss Piper they helped Elizabeth undress, bath, and settle into bed for a long nap, though Elizabeth slept little. Her mind was too busy between the memories of her fight with Banister and Mr. Darcy's scolding.

At least after their time in Derbyshire and her letter, she could believe he did not despise her. She could not conjure up enough reasons to fool herself any longer. She was fortunate he did not intend to expose her further. He was right that it was ridiculous for her to risk her reputation to save her family's. What good would it do them to save her father's name if she were truly and utterly ruined? At best they would live in isolation from all of their friends and neighbors. She had acted thoughtlessly today, and she knew it.

* * *

Darcy had not felt this helpless since he had watched Georgiana abuse herself for falling for Wickham, and not a thing he said or did comforted her. Like nothing he said or did today showed Elizabeth how illogically she was behaving. Nothing frustrated him more than his own impotence, and it was one of the few things that made him truly angry. He was feeling, for a lack of a better word, violent. Hyde Park would work for a hard ride during morning hours, but it was too fashionably late in the day for that.

When Colonel Fitzwilliam re-entered the coach, Darcy asked tightly, "If you do not have anywhere to be, would you be interested in a few bouts in my ballroom?"

Fitzwilliam looked at him strangely for a full minute before he replied, "Are you planning on ending me for my part in today?"

"I find myself wishing for exertion to clear my head, and riding is not convenient at the moment. Though I do not deny having you in particular as my opponent will be helpful."

"That is comforting."

"It is good to know _somebody_ is comfortable today," Darcy replied sarcastically.

Fitzwilliam leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, then closed his eyes and reached up and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. He sighed, "This really was an anomaly for Miss Bennet, Darcy. She is one of the most discreet spies I have ever met, although you appear to have an uncanny ability to discover her when she least wishes to be found. It is unfortunate that does not apply to just anyone, otherwise I would ask you to sign on with the War Office."

Darcy was not amused, as he was sure his cousin could see when he looked up.

Fitzwilliam shrugged. "Feel free to take your frustration out on me with your shortsword."

"That is the idea," Darcy muttered as they pulled to a stop in front of his townhouse.

* * *

"Do you intend to marry Miss Bennet?" Fitzwilliam asked as they donned their masks in the ballroom.

"No," Darcy responded shortly, grateful his face was hidden from his too-perceptive cousin.

They moved out to the center of the ballroom and Fitzwilliam called for position.

"You are in love with her, though?" Fitzwilliam asked as he attacked.

Darcy parried. "It does not matter. Nothing can come of it."

"Then why are you so concerned for her reputation?" his cousin asked, with a feint and then a lunge in the same direction.

Darcy parried again, then lunged aggressively forward, forcing Fitzwilliam's retreat. He had been asking himself the same question, to his frustration.

"Well, Darcy?"

"Just because I cannot marry her, does not imply that I do not care about her future," Darcy said shortly.

"Cannot or will not marry her?" Fitzwilliam asked calmly, then went on the offensive, taking advantage of his distracted opponent.

Darcy chose to ignore his cousin's question, which he decided he did not want to think too closely on, and asked one of his own. "What were you doing that required her to dress like that in the first place?"

Fitzwilliam hesitated. "Catching a villain."

Darcy froze, startled by this new knowledge. Fitzwilliam took a step back to allow him a moment.

He finally spoke in a strained voice, "I thought she gathered information."

"Usually, yes. We needed a woman of a certain...type to get close enough to catch him."

"And Miss Bennet simply volunteered?" Darcy asked sarcastically.

"After a fashion."

Darcy was thoughtful for a moment. "She was coerced," he stated flatly.

"More that she was bribed with something she felt she could not refuse," Fitzwilliam replied quietly.

Darcy felt all of the helpless frustration raise back up inside of him. Why did nobody help her? Why did her father, his cousin, and heaven knew who else just stand by and let her be used and likely ruined? He could not speak on her behalf without claiming a relationship with her, and he could not countenance sacrificing Georgiana's future for her. No matter how much he felt for her.

He re-engaged his cousin's sword and let his anger fight for him. Fitzwilliam seemed to sense that he was done with talking, and focused himself on his sword. They were evenly matched and it was fierce and fast until Fitzwilliam needed to call a halt due to his exhaustion.

Fitzwilliam left Darcy House frustrated with his cousin. He could see that Darcy cared very much for Miss Bennet, and he did not see the same obstacles that Darcy did. Miss Bennet would not be in her current occupation for much longer. While the _ton_ would be scandalised by her history, as long as she was not discovered by the wrong person, which he had complete faith that she would not be, their opinion would not matter. The connections she had formed through her service made her more eligible as a wife for Darcy than she would have been otherwise. Her intimacy with the Bathurst family had introduced her to a much higher level of society than the Bennets could have reached on her own, and Miss Elizabeth Bennet was well-regarded by all of the respectable people who had met her.

While he realised the situation looked bad, he felt his cousin was too blinded by his heart to see reason. Was a lady of Miss Bennet's caliber not worth overlooking her history? She was still a virtuous woman. While she had, in a sense, had an occupation, hers was not the same as working for a living. What she did was self-sacrificing and brave. She was utterly devoted to those she loved. A man did not often find that, especially among the women of the _ton_.

Darcy was normally so rational, but when it came to Miss Bennet, all he could see was impossibility.

* * *

Elizabeth did finally drift off and she slept hard, then awoke feeling thickheaded and not very well rested. She saw that it was nearing dinner, and called for Miss Piper to help her dress. She normally would have done it herself, but she was rather stiff and sore, and her ribs ached again. The twisting required to do up her buttons was too much.

She joined the family, then met with Lord Bathurst and his son afterward, and they explained the details of the day and what they had learned. Lord Bathurst grew increasingly upset when she and Lord Apsley detailed what had happened at the public house, uncharacteristically interjecting several times to clarify.

When they finished, he stood and paced. "I am exceedingly sorry, Miss Elizabeth, that I allowed you to be put in this situation. I take the blame entirely on myself. I should not have acquiesced to Lord Liverpool's demand so easily."

"Lord Henry, I chose this as well. It is not entirely your fault. Fortunately, nothing truly bad happened. All's well that ends well," she quoted gently, feeling a deep sadness growing inside of her. At least no one but her would suffer for her mistakes.

"Do you believe that Mr. Darcy will continue to keep his silence?" Lord Bathurst asked.

"I do. He indicated as much, and he has not said anything during the month since he has known."

"From my experience with him at Cambridge, I would agree with Miss Elizabeth," added Lord Apsley. "He has always treated ladies honorably, and I cannot see him choosing to ruin her reputation."

Lord Bathurst nodded. "I will be writing to your father to explain my failure to protect you properly, and apologise. Do you wish for me to speak with Mr. Darcy to ensure his silence?"

"No. I believe the best course in this instance is to allow him to forget about it. I would prefer to leave it as it is." She hoped, not for the first time, that for his sake he would be able to.

Lord Bathurst sighed, "As grateful as I have been for everything you have done, Miss Elizabeth, I will not deny that I will feel relief when Michaelmas arrives. Your father is an excellent man, and neither of you should be paying for sins that are not his, no matter how good you are at it."

Elizabeth agreed with his anticipation of her retirement. While the past three years had been exciting, she was happy to be returning to her quiet, country, life. Even if it looked less satisfying than it had before she had met Fitzwilliam Darcy.


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I've edited the last chapter again. I have been trying to get them both to a specific place, and I did not convey Elizabeth's feelings and thoughts as well as I had thought. To the guest reviewer who was so disappointed in the chapter, I hope you'll go back and read that one again and stick with me to the end. I am thankful that you pointed out that I had missed my mark. I can't express how thankful I am for such helpful reviews, whether critical or positive._

 _For those worried about not getting to a full HEA for our couple: that's where we're headed. This turned out a little more angsty than I had planned, but Elizabeth's forced situation makes it darker by necessity._

(9)

Darcy stared at his calendar, annoyed. He wished to be gone from London, but he could not go to Pemberley without stopping in Hertfordshire to say _something_ to Bingley, though he knew not what. He was determined he would not interfere again, but at the same time felt honor-bound to warn his friend some way.

How did one go about telling a friend that the woman he loved had a sister who was a spy? Did he have the right to tell anything of Elizabeth's activities without betraying his promise not to expose her? He supposed he could approach her father and extract a promise of informing Bingley of the dangers of marrying into the family from him. Though he doubted Mr. Bennet's willingness to exert himself, he had not seen reason to doubt his honor as a gentleman.

That moved his thoughts to another question; did Mr. Bennet truly know what his daughter did? He could not believe a gentleman, even one who allowed his wife and younger daughters to run as wild as they did, would sit by and watch what Darcy had seen happen. He had seen Mr. Bennet's obvious preference for his second daughter, and that led him to believe in the man's ignorance. He could not believe the man would be complacent with the risks she was taking.

He did not wish to be the one to tell her father, either. Who would know what Mr. Bennet knew?

Darcy felt himself grow restless, and he stood to pace on the rug in front of his desk.

He had spent a significant amount of the past three days vacillating between talking himself out of caring for a woman who could show such an enormous lack in judgement, and trying to find a way to rescue her from the situation she was in.

He had no doubt that she was as intelligent as he had always perceived her to be, so why was she so obtuse about her behaviour being a danger to herself? Why did she stubbornly stick to the excuse that it was her duty? What had happened to put her in this position in the first place? He struggled to understand how the family of a quiet country squire had managed to capture the attention of such a powerful member of the British government that they would be forced to sacrifice the safety of one of their daughters to appease him.

He supposed he could demand Mr. Bennet explain all, but he was not comfortable intimidating Elizabeth's father in order to receive information that she would not give him herself.

Her stubborn attachment to this duty also made him doubt that she would accept help from him even if he offered it. She had made it perfectly clear that she felt he was interfering where he did not belong. Besides, what could he possibly offer?

Marriage, though he struggled with the idea of risking Georgiana's future, even for Elizabeth. She had rejected him once, and with her unwillingness to give up her duty, he assumed she would refuse again anyway. Even as much as he loved her, he could not imagine spending the rest of his life wondering if she was safe. Considering how strongly he felt about it already, it would likely destroy him. No, he could not wed her while she continued in her current occupation.

He could offer to put her someplace safe where no one could find her, removing her from the situation entirely, though that was uncomfortably close to setting her up as his mistress, even if he did nothing to her in that regard. If they were ever found out, her reputation would be in just as much danger as it was today. He could not see her happily hidden away from all society either.

Besides, if he believed her, then she could not simply abandon her family without dire consequences. Short of offering to hide her entire family, he could not see his intervention being helpful.

That left him doing nothing, and it chafed. It was not often that Fitzwilliam Darcy found himself incapable of changing that which he could not abide, and he did not like it at all.

* * *

The following day, Darcy presented his card to the Bathursts' butler on Colonel Fitzwilliam's recommendation. As he waited, he reminded himself that Miss Elizabeth Bennet was a simple acquaintance. She had made it clear she did not wish for his protection or interference, that he had no right to offer it. If she could treat him as an indifferent acquaintance, then he would need to learn to do the same.

The butler led him through a thankfully-empty hall to Lord Bathurst's study and announced him.

Their discussion was short and Darcy rose to leave less than a quarter hour later, satisfied that Mr. Bennet would be able to offer Bingley an accurate description of the danger he would be in if he married the eldest Miss Bennet. As he walked back through the hall, a door to his left opened and Elizabeth stepped into his path.

"Mr. Darcy!"

"Miss Bennet," he said and inclined his head, careful to keep his expression neutral. She looked tired and drawn, her face pale.

She began to ask a question, then stopped herself. She did this again before she asked awkwardly, "How are you, sir?"

"Well enough," he replied blandly. "And yourself?"

She nodded. "Well enough, as...well," she replied hesitantly.

Silence reigned for a few moments, then Elizabeth spoke again. "Will you remain in London for long, sir?" she asked.

"Only a few more days."

She nodded, then reached to pull her shawl more tightly around her. When she did, one side slipped, and she lost hold of it. She reacted quickly and covered herself back up in barely a moment, but it was enough for Darcy to see the large bruise on her forearm and the smaller, fingerprint-sized ones above her elbow leading under sleeve. He drew a sharp breath and looked at her face.

She grimaced. "It is nothing," she said quietly.

Darcy took a step toward her. "Nothing?" he whispered, feeling his frustration rise again.

She shrugged, looking down, "It is no worse than I have experienced before. It will heal."

Her words brought the memory of her injury at his own hands to his mind. That did not help the emotions rising in him.

Going against everything he had convinced himself of just yesterday, he offered what he knew he should not, "Miss Bennet, you need not do this. I can help you. Let me help you." He was nearly pleading with the last words, something he had rarely done. He held his breath, praying she would accept.

Elizabeth stared at him in shock. He had surprised her as well as himself. "While I appreciate your offer, I cannot possibly accept it," she finally replied shakily. "I am satisfied with what I am because I _must_ be, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy searched her eyes, and saw tears form, but she was firm. He bowed. "Good day then, Miss Bennet," he said, moving past her toward the entry. There was little point in torturing himself further with her presence.

He refused to look back again, and she said nothing further.

Darcy entered his coach and rapped on the roof immediately, needing to escape. He sank back into a cushioned seat, feeling defeated. He would visit his friend in Hertfordshire, do his duty, and then leave for Pemberley. He had always found comfort in his home, and his sister would wish for his company. He would go where he was needed.

* * *

Elizabeth stood in the hall, watching Mr. Darcy leave, as the tears began to fall. She had told herself so many times that Darcy did not love her anymore, yet he consistently showed that he still did. When would she quit lying to herself and acknowledge that truth?

She had seen the anxiety written on his face when he had begged to help her, and the anguish when she had refused. So often he had hidden his feelings behind a mask of indifference or condescension, but she had seen them this time. If he had let his mask down, the feelings must have been overwhelming him.

How much each of her actions over the past weeks must have tortured him! Everything she had said in anger in the coach would have been a cruel blow to him.

She wanted so badly to call him back, to tell him how much she cared for him in return, and beg his forgiveness for the pain she had caused him. But what good would it do to tell him all of that when nothing could come of it? Loving her did not mean he could marry her, and an admission from her would not make it any easier. It would be easier for him if he hated her, though she now doubted he was capable of doing so.

"Wretched fool!" she whispered to herself, and the tears rolled harder.

Had she learned nothing from her treatment of him in April? She had been overly harsh and assuming, rejecting him cruelly, and he had loved her still, and now she had done it again. She had grievously wounded a man who had proven steadfast. Her heart ached for him and for her own loss.

* * *

Darcy dismounted from his horse and handed his reins to the stable boy as he glanced around the yard at Longbourn. It was in need of repairs on the roof, and the whole house had a slightly shabby appearance.

It would appear that the master's indolence extended to his house as well as his family.

Darcy shook his head as he walked up the front steps. He would never understand how a man could neglect his duty toward those dependent upon him.

A tired-looking older woman opened the door and took his card, leaving him in the hall while she went to present it to her master. As Darcy stood waiting, he heard a shrill voice that could only belong to Mrs. Bennet cry, "Hill! Hill!"

This was followed by a door slamming, a pause, and then another loud, "No Jane! You cannot possibly wear the green dress tonight, it does not bring out your eyes like the blue one does."

There was another quiet pause, where Darcy imagined Miss Bennet replied to her mother. This was followed by Mrs. Bennet again, "I care not that Betsy already pressed it, she can press the blue one. We cannot have you looking anything but your best when Mr. Bingley comes to dinner!"

Another pause. "Of _course_ it matters what you wear! Mr. Bingley is not coming to propose to Kitty, for goodness' sake!" This phrase finished so loudly that Darcy was grateful to be in a different room than the woman for the sake of his ears.

As the housekeeper came to retrieve him, Darcy wondered how Bingley could possibly tolerate the thought of that woman as his mother-in-law.

Though he supposed he would have welcomed the connection for the reward of Elizabeth.

He heard one more cry for "Hill! Hill! Oh, why are you never here when I _need_ you!" before the door to the study was closed behind him, though he thought he may have heard muttering from the poor woman he assumed was being summoned. Mrs. Reynolds would likely serve him porridge every meal for a week if he spoke to her in that manner.

"Welcome, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet said as he slowly stood, eyeing Darcy's disgusted face with a smirk. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?" he asked.

"Mr. Bennet," Darcy acknowledged him with a slight bow before taking the seat the other man indicated in front of his desk, turning his expression neutral. "I have come here on behalf of my friend," he replied impassively.

Mr. Bennet raised a brow in question. "Mr. Bingley? Can he not speak for himself?" he asked dryly.

"He does not know what I am here for, and I do not believe it is my place to tell him. Instead, I ask you to do so."

"And what would you have me tell him?"

Darcy felt annoyed. "Mr. Bennet, you cannot be unaware of why I am here. You must know that I know your second daughter is much more than she appears to be. I would ask that you disclose enough for him to be able to weigh for himself the risk of Miss Elizabeth's activities and the privilege of Miss Bennet's hand."

"Ah, you speak of your friend's apparently imminent marriage proposal. So Mrs. Bennet is not just full of nonsense, then?"

Darcy's temper began to slip. Did this man take nothing seriously?

"I cannot not tell you precisely what Mr. Bingley's plans are, but he has hinted as much. I simply ask that you give him fair warning before accepting his request for Miss Bennet's hand, if he makes it," Darcy responded tersely.

There was humour in Mr. Bennet's eyes as he replied, "No need to worry yourself over it, Mr. Darcy. It has always been my intention to inform any sensible young man of all the dangers of marrying one of my daughters, including their mother."

Darcy felt the mockery acutely. While he knew ought to simply leave, his frustration with Mr. Bennet caused him to speak without thought.

"Pardon me, sir, for struggling to believe that a man who cares so little for the safety of one of his daughters would take the time to protect anyone else."

Mr. Bennet's eyes narrowed, and all humour left him as he replied sharply, "Do not think, young man, for one moment that I do not care for my Lizzy's safety. That child means the world to me, and you know not what I have suffered these three years. Do not presume to judge that which you do not understand."

"If it has caused so much suffering for both of you, then why have you not stopped it? Why is she allowed to throw herself away in such a manner?" Darcy demanded. He knew full well that he was overstepping his bounds, but he found himself angry and desperate to understand, and this man had all of the answers he so badly wanted.

All of the anger seemed to leave Mr. Bennet in that moment, and he transformed into a man defeated. Darcy watched, fascinated.

"You still care for her, even after everything you know?" Mr. Bennet asked him quietly.

When Darcy did not answer, Mr. Bennet nodded. "I have been in your position, Mr. Darcy; loving a woman whom I later found to not be who I thought at all."

Darcy stiffened in surprise at Mr. Bennet's admission.

"I was never given an explanation, and you cannot begin to imagine how it has haunted me," Mr. Bennet continued sadly. He eyed the younger man carefully, "Perhaps I could do you the service of that explanation, and you will be able to find peace where I could not. Though I must say my Lizzy's position is not what Isabelle's was."

Darcy sat up straighter in anticipation, though he felt some trepidation. What if he learned things he did not wish to know?

"You would tell me everything?" he asked skeptically.

Mr. Bennet rose to his feet slowly and hobbled over to his brandy decanter. He poured two generous snifters and returned to his desk, setting one in front of Mr. Darcy.

"On the same gentlemanly word you depended upon earlier, I would ask that you never speak of this to anyone except Lizzy. She is the only other soul on this earth who knows the entire story. It only seemed right that she know precisely what she was sacrificing herself for."

Mr. Darcy eyed Elizabeth's father suspiciously, "Why are you willing to tell me this?"

Mr. Bennet looked thoughtful, "I suppose it is because your protectiveness toward my daughter warms a father's heart. Though nothing may ever come of it, I can respect a man who will stand for what is right, even when it does not directly benefit him." He frowned, "It reminds me of a younger me, before I let my heartache make foolish decisions for me. If I can offer you peace so that you may live your life well, consider it a favour of an old man who wishes to make up for his own youthful mistakes."

Darcy nodded, then reached for glass in front of him. "You have my word as a gentleman that I will never reveal your secrets to anyone."

"Well then, where to begin?"

"Who is Isabelle?" Darcy asked.

Mr. Bennet smiled sadly, "The daughter of an inconsequential Tory, who we we later found was quite the Patriot. Because her father was loyal, we made the mistake of assuming she was as well."

"After you had...fallen for her?" Darcy asked awkwardly.

"Oh yes. You see, Lizzy did not learn her skills by chance. She is following in her father's footsteps. I was a counter-intelligence officer for His Majesty's Army during the American War of Independence. Isabelle's father's house in Boston was a safe meeting place, and I spent many an evening at his table. Out of deference for her sensibilities, we did not speak of war. Instead we spoke of the pleasures of society, books, oh anything and everything. Isabelle was a vivacious, beautiful woman, and I was captivated," he said wistfully.

Darcy understood the feeling. "How did you find out she was a Patriot?"

"She was caught giving information on our movements to the Americans. She had also developed a propensity for listening at doors, it would seem. Her father, though I imagine he was disappointed in her, feared for her safety when she was found out, and they escaped in the middle of the night, leaving nearly everything behind. Unfortunately for me, that included several letters I had written her."

"Had you divulged secrets to her?"

Mr. Bennet sighed, "No, thankfully. I was not _that_ foolish, though it was not much better. They were rather passionate in their description of my feelings for her." He glanced at Darcy ruefully, "I would be quite upset if a young man wrote to one of my daughters in such a manner before they were engaged at least, and there was no understanding between Isabelle and myself.

"The war fell apart on us shortly after that. We had to waste time setting up an entirely new network, and the Americans took advantage. Several of my comrades died as we tried to extract ourselves, and that is when this happened," he gestured toward his leg.

"Was it a fall?" Darcy asked curiously.

"No, I was shot. Shattered part of my hip. The crossing home was hell. Even nearly thirty years later I can barely tolerate a carriage ride. I am fortunate it never got infected, or I would be long dead."

Mr. Bennet shifted in his seat, as though speaking of it reminded him of the pain.

"If you came back unscathed by the letters, then how is Miss Elizabeth in the position she is now?"

Mr. Bennet sighed, "The letters were put into my file, though I did not know this. You see, my father died shortly after my return, and I was forced to take up Longbourn. I had originally planned to work for the War Office, though I could never be active again. If I had, I probably would have found them myself. As it were, those letters were long forgotten in the whirlwind of running an estate, marrying Fanny, and having the girls. For five and twenty years I only had my own regrets to live with, and they were well out-weighed by the joy that healthy, happy, children bring."

Darcy could see Mr. Bennet was reflecting on those good times, and waited patiently for him to begin again.

"Then, about three-and-a-half years ago I received a letter from the Home Secretary, the newly named Lord Liverpool, that he wished to call me back to service. It seemed he had higher ambitions, and had every intention of using any means necessary to help himself. I wrote a letter in return, explaining that my injury had never healed, and that I respectfully declined. I was then summoned to him with threat of something or other that would result in me being thrown into Newgate if I did not comply. I did, assuming that when he saw me, he would realise I was quite serious and leave me alone. I was mistaken," he said flatly.

"He used those letters to compel you?" Darcy asked incredulously. "But there was nothing damning in them!"

"Aye, but he had thought this through, you see. He knew something of my past; his father had been the Secretary at War during the American conflict. He used only truths, but carefully omitted several that would have exonerated me, to build his story. He explained that, if I did not comply with his request, he would be required to expose a traitorous British citizen, though he supposed he would be able to benevolently get transportation to America for me, rather than execution, should I refuse. You can probably imagine how I argued my defense to him, pointing out my injury and explaining that I would be virtually useless.

"He replied that I should teach one of my sons what they needed to know, and send him in my stead. I told him I had only daughters. I shall never forget the look in his eye when he shrugged and said 'it would do, as long as she could perform her duty.'"

"Good God," cried Darcy. "And this is the man who leads Parliament? Who, in theory, runs our entire country? He is evil."

"He arrogantly believes that he knows what is best for Britain more than anyone else, and he has no qualms about doing as he sees fit, no matter the cost. I think he genuinely believes he is doing the right thing."

Darcy stood and began pacing the room. "And this is the man who owns Elizabeth's actions." He turned and looked at her father, seeing the frustration he felt reflected in the older man's eyes.

"She volunteered, when she found out," he stated flatly, knowing it to be true before Mr. Bennet acknowledged it with a nod.

"I returned home, knowing not what I should do. I asked my brother, Edward Gardiner, to visit so that we could decide what was to be done. I was prepared to leave England, and take my family with me, though I knew not what we would do. Longbourn was entailed, and I had saved precious little funds through the years. We would have started fresh with _nothing_. I have no skills to trade, other than my gentleman's education, and am too crippled to be a labourer. Perhaps I could have become a tutor for wealthy families who wanted their sons educated in the British fashion, but how long before I built enough clients to support us? Fanny's five thousand pounds would not have gotten us far, even if I found an excellent investment. I had no sons who could work to support the family. My daughters would have been required to take up occupations, all in a new place with no friends or family.

"Then Lizzy stormed my study, insisting that she would take my place. She had listened at the window and heard all. At first I steadfastly refused. What father allows his seventeen-year-old daughter become a spy? I could not let her sacrifice herself like that."

"But she argued her point, and you could not deny the truth of what she said," Darcy answered for him in little more than a whisper, dropping back into his chair.

Mr. Bennet nodded, "She laid out all her reasons; that she was strong enough, and capable enough, and smart enough. She still climbed trees and ran everywhere, much to her mother's chagrin. I had taught her how to read people's feelings and reactions, how to use them to predict their future actions. It had all been a fun game when she was younger because she was an apt pupil, and it was gratifying to pass on what I knew.

"I tried to argue that just because she was able did not mean she should shoulder this responsibility, and she reasoned against me again. Was going to America not giving up? Would not all her sisters be required to take up an occupation if we went? She could give up a few years, satisfy the debt, and gain everything for her family. If she were exposed, we would likely face disgrace, but that was still better than leaving everything we knew, and we would have the estate to support us. She would need to be careful to stay safe, but even so, was not the risk to one daughter worth the futures of four?"

Darcy watched as Mr. Bennet ran his hand up and down his face, choking back his emotion.

"You cannot know," Mr. Bennet whispered wretchedly, "how that choice tortured me. I fought against it for days before I could acknowledge that she was right. I wrote to Liverpool then, and told him my daughter was willing to serve. He responded that she was expected to report to the War Office by Michaelmas. I had barely three months to do everything I could to prepare her. I taught her how to shoot, how to defend herself with and against a knife. I showed her strategies for entering buildings undetected and how to keep her escape routes open.

"While she learned, my brother and I planned what we could do to keep her safe. He and my sister offered any aid they could give, but they have young children of their own. She has always had a place to stay with them, and they offered it for whenever she needed to be in town, but what else could they do?

"I wrote to the Earl Bathurst, a friend of mine from our Oxford days, who was a part of the group coming to power with Liverpool. I explained all to him and begged him to do what he could for my daughter. He promised me he would keep her safe, not agreeing with Liverpool's methods. He has been key in Lizzy's ability to stay unknown. She often travels as Lady Emily Bathurst's intimate friend, thus allowing her easier paths to the houses she needed to explore.

"All this when she should have been enjoying local assemblies and sewing her trousseau with her sisters. She turned eighteen a few weeks before her departure. _Eighteen,_ Mr. Darcy. I was terrified for her. Yet she has done far more than anyone expected, and until you she has never been discovered."

"Was there not another who was capable and who had chosen the profession?" Darcy asked uselessly.

"Her duty is to ferret out traitors to the crown. Liverpool is aware of how many spies we have embedded in the French government, and I believe he assumes there are just as many in ours. As he grew in power, he used her to investigate anyone he could claim remote suspicion of treason on, in order to better understand his enemies, both foreign and domestic. When I was commanded to his presence, I gathered that no one else was willing to pry into the lives of their fellow countrymen, hence the need to force someone to do it. Unfortunately for us, he had the ability with me."

"Will she never be finished?" Darcy asked, assuming the worst.

"It was always contingent upon Lord Liverpool's satisfaction with what she produced, though he said he expected three years," Mr. Bennet said casually.

"Three years?" Darcy cried. "Then Michaelmas, in just over a week?"

He stood and began pacing again. "She may be free from this obligation in a mere ten days?" he whispered.

"Though he may find an excuse to keep her," Mr. Bennet reminded him.

Darcy paced for a while longer while Mr. Bennet watched him silently. He stopped suddenly and came to stand before the older man's desk.

"Will she return to Longbourn if she is free to do so?"

Mr. Bennet nodded. "Yes, though it is possible she will return for a time anyway, if she is not needed by the Prime Minister in the near future."

Darcy was quiet again. He was overwhelmed by all he had learned, and that blasted hope was surging back forward to tease him again.

When he spoke again, it was rather sudden and a bit rushed, "Mr. Bennet, I appreciate your telling me so much of your own history. I wish to apologise for judging you harshly earlier; you were correct that I had no right to do so when I knew so little. Would you...would you excuse me? I have much to think on, and I would prefer to do so alone."

"Certainly, son," Mr. Bennet replied. "If you wish to ask me anything, I am here."

Darcy nodded absently, then left, letting himself out of the house and gathering his horse in a daze.

Mr. Bennet watched the young man go, and he felt satisfied. Mr. Darcy would make an excellent husband for his Lizzy, if he could be convinced to overlook her temporary occupation. Mr. Bennet appreciated the strong need of Darcy's to protect his daughter. That the gentleman still held feelings for her, through everything that had been thrown at him, showed his steadfastness. He hoped that his explanation helped.

Elizabeth deserved happiness after everything she had sacrificed for her family. While Mr. Bennet would miss her if she were to live in Derbyshire, it would be better for her to be separated from the mother and sisters who could not know what she had done for them. He had never done as well as he ought to curb Mrs. Bennet's tongue, and Elizabeth had suffered for it. Mr. Darcy would never let her suffer again if he could help it, and it soothed a father's heart to know that she would be so well cared for.

Now he just needed to do everything in his power to convince the young man of his need for her. It was the least he could do in return for her saving of himself.


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: I apologize for the delay. I did not leave you hanging on purpose. I came down with a terrible cold and it lasted for nearly a month. I can't think well enough to write when I am exhausted, and while I kept trying, nothing good was happening. Hopefully I stay healthy for a while!_

 _As a brief reminder - we left off with Darcy having just learned the_ entirety _of Elizabeth's spying history. He's feeling a bit overwhelmed._

* * *

(10)

Darcy rode for hours. He could not abide facing anyone until he had come to grips with what he had been told.

 _Elizabeth would be free._

His heart whispered it repeatedly. It mattered not that she might not actually be so, his hope had been brought back up, and he could not deny it.

Her father's story had explained so much, and it changed everything. While he still hated that she was trapped in this position, he could no longer argue against her fulfilling her duty. Would he not have done the same for his own family?

After a time of reveling in her new-found freedom, niggling doubts began to creep in. What if she was not granted her freedom? Would that freedom last if it were granted, or would Lord Liverpool always hang over her head, calling her back in the future on a whim? Was it possible to guarantee her future freedom?

Did she want to be free from that life?

He had always assumed she would never willingly go back to it, but what if she wanted to? What if the excitement was too much for her to give up?

He lived a quiet life. If she wished for intrigues and action, they would not suit at all.

That thought brought on a new round of anxiety. He had felt so strongly about her for so long, but did he know the real Elizabeth? How much did he truly know about her? He admired her for her intelligence, her devotion, her innate happiness, her fearlessness, but what did he know about her own future dreams? Were marriage and children a part her future? Once, he would have assumed that was what she wanted, but her rejection of him in April had made him wary of assuming. Perhaps that was not what she wanted at all.

Even if she wished for a normal life, did she return his affection? It did him no good for her to want a husband if she did not like him, as he well knew.

He had thought she did, after they had met at Pemberley, but those doubts began to creep in as well. He had treated her rather poorly, both at their last meeting in Lambton and in that coach ride through London, when he called her sense into question and spoke so coldly. Could she forgive him? He could claim concern for her as his defense, but he knew he had been selfishly angry at her for his own heartache as well.

She had been so quiet and forlorn during their last brief meeting. Was it because of him? Was it because she cared for his opinion yet? Or had he just wished it to be so?

Those questions ran through his mind repeatedly, though it drew him no closer to being confident in her feelings, nor even his own. When his horse began to show signs of fatigue, he turned toward Netherfield. He had always considered himself a patient man, but the next ten days were going to be a test of it like nothing else ever had.

* * *

Elizabeth went through the motions of what she hoped was her last house party as a spy. It never ceased to amaze her how Lord Bathurst could convince a suspect to open his home at the mere mention of his family wishing to spend a few weeks in that part of the country. Baron Dormer was no exception, and had jumped at the chance to host a rather large group considering the short timeline. She felt for his poor wife and housekeeper.

"You seem rather subdued this evening, Miss Bennet," Colonel Fitzwilliam said quietly as he came to stand next to her during a break between dance sets. This ball was the culmination of a week of revelry.

Elizabeth gave him a ghost of a smile. "I have found it difficult to focus tonight," she replied.

He nodded. "I imagine you have a few things on your mind."

"I am five days from freedom, Colonel."

"Is that all you are thinking of? A certain cousin of mine has not kept your attention?"

"It is highly unlikely I will ever see him again. I would prefer not to speak of him tonight, either."

"But you do not deny that he is in your thoughts?"

Elizabeth gave him a pained look. "Colonel, please. It does me no good to dwell on what cannot be."

Fitzwilliam quirked his brow. "I would not be so sure of that."

When she began to argue, he held out his hand. "I will not speak of him again tonight if you give me a dance. I need to take my opportunities while I can, if you are determined to never see my cousin again. I will miss this."

"Are you going to go teary on me, Colonel?" Elizabeth asked cheekily.

Fitzwilliam laughed, "I suppose I could try to produce a few for you, if you like."

"They are not as meaningful if you tell me they are false."

"If I dwell too hard on the fact that I will no longer be paid to dance with a beautiful woman, they would be real."

It was Elizabeth's turn to laugh. "I see what I am useful for," she replied. "Perhaps they will find you an even prettier girl to dance with."

"Not possible."

Elizabeth shook her head. "You are incorrigible," she said with a smile. "It is not as though I am leaving the country. I am sure we will see each other again."

The colonel merely shrugged and continued their dance. He had promised not to speak of his cousin, and he would keep his word, though it chafed to do so.

* * *

The day after the ball, when everyone had retired early in preparation for leaving the following morning, Elizabeth waited until well after dark, then crept quietly down the hall in her soft leather boots. She stayed to the shadows, listening carefully for any sound.

She arrived at the study and stood outside the door for several minutes to be sure no one was inside. When she was confident it was empty, she eased the door open and slipped in. She unlatched her customary window on her way to the desk.

The travel lantern she pulled out of her pack was new, and she gave it a dissatisfied glance as she turned up the flame and set it on the desk. It would do, but it was not the same as the one she had lost. This one's light flickered too often and made it harder for her to read through the documents quickly. Her old one had been her father's before her, and the flame had always been steady.

The lantern made her thoughts drift to Mr. Darcy. She wondered if he had kept it or disposed of it as quickly as he could.

She could not see him holding onto it for sentimental reasons, even if he did care for her. She cringed. Not only had she left it there while invading his privacy, but it would be a reminder of her occupation, and he would not want that. Even if he had kept it, she could not simply ask for its return.

No, that lantern was long gone.

She sighed, then shook her head and went back to listening for sounds as she searched. She had been caught last time due to her distracted mind and it would do her no good to be found again.

Elizabeth carefully set aside the papers for the building Banister had stayed in and the White Horse, confirming Lord Dormer's ownership. She finished with the desk and turned to the painting behind it. She pulled it down and took out her tools, picking the lock in a moment.

She smiled at the memory of Pemberley's lock and the trouble it had given her. She had come to expect nothing less from a man as fastidious as Fitzwilliam Darcy.

Elizabeth rifled through the papers, ignoring the boxes, hoping to find the confirmation she needed quickly. Fortunately for her, the baron had put several letters from Banister in a file. They contained all the confirmation she needed. Lord Dormer had been well compensated for his part in the matter; providing the French spy with a place to live and work and the protection he desired.

Elizabeth sighed again. Another foolish man who wished to live above his means and was willing to betray his country for the privilege.

There was a noise in the hall, and she froze, barely controlling the urge to run for the window. She stood, watching the door knob for movement for several long, rather painful minutes before going back to work.

She quickly put everything but the letters back in the safe, locked it, and repositioned the painting over it. She gathered the building records and put the lot into her pack. She turned the lantern down and returned that as well. She latched the window as she passed by it again on her way to the door. She listened for noise on the other side, hearing nothing. Slipping into the silent hall nervously, she carefully looking around for signs of anyone else. When she saw it was clear she returned the way she had come.

As she came to the first corner she heard another noise. She flattened against the wall in the shadows and shallowed her breathing.

The baron himself walked passed her and continued on in the direction she had come from, entering his study.

She waited until she heard the door close. He had not seen her.

She moved shakily toward her room again. Once she was safely inside, she undressed quickly and hid her black clothes in the bottom of her travel case. She blew out her lantern and put it back into its own box and slipped that into her case as well.

She slid the documents under her pillow and got into bed. She lay awake for a time, heart racing at the thought of nearly being caught again. She prayed the baron would not look for the records she had taken that night. She did not think that he would search for them under her particular pillow, but the thought made sleep impossible. She wished there was a way to give them to the earl now, but knocking on his door in the middle of the night was not an option.

She had never been so nervous on a job before, not even when she had been at Pemberley. While she did not particularly enjoy invading people's privacy, especially those who turned out to be perfectly innocent, there was a thrill from successfully slipping through a house undetected. Tonight, even that thrill was gone. She simply wanted to be done.

She said a silent prayer that morning would come and they would soon be well on their way without Lord Dormer realising what had happened. Freedom was so close. She prayed it would arrive without any further complications.

* * *

At promptly ten o'clock in the morning on the thirtieth of September, the Earl Bathurst and Miss Elizabeth Bennet presented themselves at Lord Liverpool's office at Westminster.

"Your information was very helpful, Miss Bennet," Lord Liverpool said as they sat.

"Then you are satisfied in my service my lord?"

"I believe I already told you that you would be free, Miss Bennet," he replied in a patronising tone.

"Liverpool," Lord Bathurst warned sharply.

Lord Liverpool smiled, though Elizabeth would not call it pleasantly, and shrugged his shoulders slightly. "I suppose you would like the proof you came for?"

"Yes my lord," Elizabeth replied neutrally. She was annoyed, but determined to hold her tongue. It would do no good to irritate Lord Liverpool. She preferred to let him have his moment and escape with what she wanted.

He pulled open a drawer and removed a stack of letters tied with a purple ribbon. He tossed them on the desk in front of Elizabeth, who untied the ribbon and checked each one.

"Counting them, Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth quirked a brow, "Just making sure you did not accidentally forget one."

Lord Liverpool barked a harsh laugh. "You are not very trusting, Miss Bennet."

"I am looking forward to _permanent_ retirement, my lord."

"I suppose you would like the declaration as well?" he asked as he removed another document from the same drawer.

Elizabeth opened this one as well and skimmed it quickly, verifying the seal stamped at the bottom, then handed it to Lord Bathurst for his own seal. "Thank you, my lord."

"You are quite thorough, young lady."

Elizabeth smiled genuinely, "I learned from the best, my lord."

"Yes, I suppose you did," he replied, then motioned toward the door. "You may go now. May you enjoy retirement, Miss Bennet. If you ever find yourself bored and in need of occupation again, you know where to find me."

Elizabeth stood and curtsied. "I would not hold my breath, my lord."

Lord Bathurst joined her as Lord Liverpool pulled the paper he had been reading back in front of him, dismissing them with his inattention.

They left, with Elizabeth being quite hopeful that she would never see the Prime Minister again.

* * *

"Is it truly over Lizzy?" Jane asked as they wandered in the garden that afternoon. Elizabeth had left for home within the hour of her meeting with Lord Liverpool, anxious to return to the comfort of her family.

"It is Jane. I have given Papa his letters and he has burned them. We are free."

"Oh, Lizzy, that makes me so content," said Jane with tears forming. "To know that you are safe and that Papa shall not need to worry over the past again - it is almost too much."

"As content as Mr. Bingley's return makes you?" Elizabeth asked with a cheeky smile.

"Lizzy!" Jane cried with a laugh. "While Mr. Bingley has been too marked, this time, in his affections for me to have any doubt of his intentions, you know I could not be truly happy without your own freedom."

"Has he made his feelings known?"

"He has not declared himself yet, but Lizzy, he has told me that he very much regrets having stayed away so long. He said that he has never been so content as when he was here last autumn, and he has asked me directly when I have been my happiest. Every look, every word, it all is so clear. It is as though he knows I need time to grow sure of him again, but he wishes me to know that he is unwavering. It is all so wonderful!"

"And perfectly deserved by you, my dearest sister!"

Jane smiled dreamily, and Elizabeth watched her with a feeling of satisfaction that she had long missed. It was good to know that her family would be well and safe again, and that her sisters were beginning to settle into their lives.

They happily continued their walk together, revelling in their newfound time, until a throat cleared behind them.

"Mr. Bingley!" Jane said, startled. "You are quite early, sir, though you are most welcome."

Bingley bowed to Jane and Elizabeth. "Forgive my intrusion, Miss Bennet, Miss Elizabeth. We came early because my friend had business with your father. I can return to the house if you prefer?"

Elizabeth smiled, "You are welcome to join us, Mr. Bingley. While I have been gone these few weeks, Jane and I always write to one another regularly. There are not many secrets to be told." She paused, then asked, "Who do you have with you? Forgive my ignorance, but I did not know we were expecting an additional guest this evening."

"Darcy has been staying at Netherfield for the past fortnight," Bingley replied as he stepped into the space the sisters had made between them for him and offered them each an arm.

It was everything Elizabeth could do to act normally. "Mr. Darcy is in Hertfordshire?" she asked in a strained voice.

Jane gave her an apologetic look as Bingley nodded.

"Does he intend to stay long?"

"I do not believe his plans are firmly set, though he did say it is his intention to stay some weeks at least."

It was Elizabeth's turn to merely nod in reply.

 _Mr. Darcy was staying in Hertfordshire!_ her mind cried. _Why?_

She did not have long to wait to see the man himself; they had taken a single turn around the garden when he emerged from the house and joined them.

The group naturally separated into pairs. Jane gave Elizabeth a worried look, but saw that her younger sister was accepting of the change. They spoke together of all their sisters for a few minutes, but the conversation drifted off. Jane and Bingley began speaking to each other, and eventually the couples separated in space as well.

Elizabeth's mind was in a jumble. What would Mr. Darcy need to speak to her father for?

"The weather has remained remarkably clear for this time of year," Darcy finally commented after several minutes of awkward silence.

"Yes," Elizabeth replied. She did not know what else to say.

"How were the roads on your trip?" he asked.

"Excellent."

He nodded and was silent again.

"Mr. Darcy, please forgive my forwardness, but Mr. Bingley mentioned you had business with my father?"

He nodded. "I had recently discussed your family's situation with your father, and today I confirmed its conclusion."

Elizabeth could not have been more surprised, and it caused her to ask rather abruptly, "Whatever for?"

"I requested that your father ensure Bingley had enough information to make a well-informed decision about his future," Darcy said gravely.

"Oh," Elizabeth responded. She squashed the feeling of disappointment that it was not for her. She glanced at the couple in front of them, then at the man to her side. He did not appear displeased, so the conversation must have went well.

"I admit, I learned much more than I had anticipated," he continued.

"You did?" Elizabeth asked, feeling thick-headed. _Why had her father not mentioned this?_

He nodded. "I owe you an apology, Miss Bennet. I was wrong to assume that you were foolish in fulfilling a duty that I did not understand. Knowing what I do now, I cannot honestly say that I would not have done the same."

Mr. Darcy had gone from scolding her for her foolishness to condoning it?

"How much did he tell you?"

"Nearly everything, I believe," he replied, much to her surprise.

She had the strong urge to start peppering him with questions, asking him what he thought of it all, but the Lucas carriage arrived at that moment, and they were required to return to the house. Elizabeth went in feeling confused and unsettled.

* * *

Darcy watched Elizabeth go through the motions of the evening with frustration. She was distracted, and he could not tell if it was because she was upset by what he had said to her, or merely thoughtful. He was used to her speaking her mind, and he found it troubling that she was as subdued today as she had been at their last meeting. He was already in so much doubt of his ability to read her that he could not settle on a meaning at all.

He did not miss her watching him, though. Each time he turned to look at her, her eyes darted away. He would describe her look as contemplative; as though she were thinking through a rather difficult puzzle. If she was as unaware of what he had been told as she appeared, he understood. He had been just as surprised as she that Mr. Bennet had not informed her.

Since he did not find another opportunity to speak with her, he attempted to spend the evening being more cordial to her family and neighbors. He was determined to do better than he had last autumn, though his own distracted mind was making success difficult.

"You are nearly verbose this evening, Mr. Darcy," Mr. Bennet commented as they stood together in the drawing room after dinner. "I believe my neighbors do not know what to do with you."

"I have been informed that my lack of congenial manner when I was last in Hertfordshire was quite off-putting, and that I made a rather poor impression on the neighborhood. I realised that I do not wish for such a reputation, and am determined to make amends."

"Considering the scrutiny you have received from a certain quarter, I do not believe your efforts have gone unnoticed."

"I do not attempt to improve myself for a gain, sir, but rather because it is the right thing to do," Darcy replied stiffly.

Mr. Bennet just smiled.

Darcy was not entirely comfortable with the expectation Mr. Bennet was insinuating. He did not think he or Elizabeth were prepared for the neighborhood at large to begin assuming the same. He would need to be cautious that he did not pay her too much attention until they had time to reach some kind of understanding, if they did at all.

"Is there a particular reason you did not tell Miss Elizabeth that we had spoken?" Darcy asked after a moment, changing the subject slightly.

Mr. Bennet shrugged lightly. "It had not come up yet. You told her, did you?"

"I found it had come up," he responded dryly.

"I suppose that is why she looks so bewildered this evening. I imagine I will get an earful soon. She is not fond of discovering her own ignorance."

Though Darcy thought Mr. Bennet deserved that earful, he did not say so. They had spoken of Elizabeth long enough, and he was concerned that they would be overheard. He asked about Longbourn's farms instead, a perfectly safe topic for gentlemen in a drawing room.

The evening ended without another chance for him to speak to Elizabeth. He left knowing that he ought not call on her tomorrow. He would need to exercise his patience for a while longer.


	11. Chapter 11

" _...I shall begin directly by asking you what made you so unwilling to come to the point at last. What made you so shy of me, when you first called, and afterwards dined here? Why, especially, when you called, did you look as if you did not care about me?"_

 _"Because you were grave and silent, and gave me no encouragement."_

 _"But I was embarrassed."_

 _"And so was I."_

\- Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice, Chapter 60

* * *

(11)

"Papa, when were you planning to inform me that you had told Mr. Darcy _everything_?" Elizabeth demanded when she visited her father's study the morning after her return.

"It sounds as though I did not need to," her father replied, not looking up from the book he was reading.

"Only because you left me in a very uncomfortable position."

Mr. Bennet waved his hand absently, "You seem to have survived."

"What are you scheming?" she asked sharply.

Mr. Bennet quirked a brow but still did not look up. "I do not know what you are speaking of," he said innocently.

"Papa!" Elizabeth cried in exasperation.

Mr. Bennet finally glanced up with a twinkle in his eye. "Fine, I will admit it. Let us just say that I would do your mother proud if she knew."

Elizabeth stared at him suspiciously but did not speak.

"How long would you have maintained your silence if you had not been caught off guard?" her father asked.

"There is nothing wrong with being cautious."

"You have always made decisions with your heart. Do not let what you have been required to see and do change that."

Elizabeth sighed. "Perhaps I have merely grown more sensible."

"No Lizzy, you have always been sensible, but never too serious or overly cautious. I fear that you have become world-weary, and I do not like it. I do not believe Mr. Darcy would be here yet if he did not wish to be. I do not want to see you pass up a chance at happiness because of whatever it is that is holding you back."

"Papa, even if he cares for me, that does not mean he would be willing to marry me. What if he simply wished to see for himself that I am well, and now he will be on his way? What if I have hurt him too badly, too many times?"

"Well, then I would expect him to leave soon. If he stays, perhaps he is merely waiting for a sign from you that you wish for him to be here. I must say, you were quite out of sorts yesterday, and it made you quite solemn. That does not offer much encouragement."

Elizabeth threw her hands in the air. "I was out of sorts because of my surprise, which was because of _you_! Since when have you become a matchmaker?"

Mr. Bennet smirked, "Since my second daughter has become too dense to see what is so obvious to me. Though I must admit, this has all been highly entertaining. Perhaps I shall take up your mother's cause permanently."

Elizabeth shook her head at her father. He was such a strange mix of jovial and serious, earnest and mocking, that even she could not always understand him.

* * *

Elizabeth found herself excessively disappointed when Mr. Bingley arrived alone later that morning. He made the excuse of pressing business for his friend.

"He will be missed, I am sure," Mrs. Bennet said insincerely. "However, we are delighted to have you, Mr. Bingley."

"Thank you, ma'am. I am delighted to be here," he replied happily, taking his seat by Jane.

They spoke of dinner from the evening before, with Mr. Bingley offering his compliments to Mrs. Bennet on the excellent dishes offered, and the matron preening under his attention. They spoke of the neighborhood in general and Mr. Bingley's enjoyment on having returned.

Precisely fifteen minutes after he had entered the parlour, Mr. Bingley commented on the lovely weather and asked if Miss Bennet would like to take a turn in the gardens.

Mrs. Bennet appeared to barely restrain herself from clapping in delight.

"Certainly, sir. Lizzy, will you join us?" Jane asked, since her mother would not choose to send a chaperone.

Elizabeth saw the slight disappointment on Mr. Bingley's face and her mother about to object. "Of course, Jane. Let us go gather our things," she said quickly, standing with her sister and moving toward the door, cutting off her mother's interference.

She heard her Mrs. Bennet excuse herself and follow them into the hall.

"Lizzy!" Mrs. Bennet whispered rather loudly. Elizabeth turned to look at her mother. "Do not feel that you need to stay close to them the whole time. Give him a chance to speak!"

Elizabeth allowed her eyes to roll a little as she replied, "Of course, Mama," though she fully intended to have Jane's approval for the scheme before doing it. She turned back and followed a blushing Jane to their room.

"Do you wish to be given time alone with Mr. Bingley?" Elizabeth asked her sister as they gathered boots, bonnets, gloves, and spencers. "Are you prepared for him to propose?"

Jane blushed deeper, "I would not object, though he may simply wish to take a friendly turn about the gardens. I know he enjoys autumn weather."

Elizabeth laughed outright. "I do not think that is his plan at all. He could barely contain himself for a polite fifteen minutes. No Jane, I am quite certain he is hoping to ask for your hand. If you are ready to answer him, I will make a point of wandering off."

Jane smiled her appreciation. They quickly returned to the front hall, where Mr. Bingley was now awaiting them.

He gave the ladies a genuine smile as he offered his arms to both of them. "It is a lovely day to escort such lovely ladies."

Jane blushed again, but Elizabeth held in a laugh. He might have referred to them both in his speech, but he was only looking adoringly at Jane. She did not think he would notice even the most obvious contrivance to leave them alone.

"Perhaps Jane has already asked you, but will your sisters be joining you at Netherfield, Mr. Bingley?" Elizabeth asked as they descended the steps to the lawn.

"They are in Scarborough for another fortnight, Miss Elizabeth. Their plans are not firmly set after that, and I do not know if they will join me here or head for the Hurst's townhouse in London."

He sounded innocent enough, but Elizabeth wondered if he had not told them where he would be, hoping to announce his location with his engagement to prevent any further interference.

"I believe you said they are visiting family?" Elizabeth asked.

"Yes, that is where my family originates from. My parents have been gone a few years now, but we still have two aunts who live with their families there."

"How good of all of you to visit. If your aunts have large families I imagine it is more difficult for them to travel," Jane said sweetly.

"They do have larger families, but their husbands were also my father's partners. He sold his share of the business to them. It is rather difficult for them to be gone for any length of time."

Jane smiled, "Much like our Uncle Gardiner."

Mr. Bingley offered her another enamoured smile, seemingly pleased every time he heard her voice. Elizabeth noticed that they had entered the gardens, and the view was quite pretty. The late flowers were in full bloom, and a light breeze was drifting through. It seemed an excellent place to leave them, and offered an excuse as well.

"Jane, I do believe the breakfast parlour was in need of fresh blossoms. If you do not mind, I shall fetch my basket and shears. I shall only be a few minutes."

Jane blushed. "Of course, Lizzy."

Elizabeth released Mr. Bingley's arm, bobbed a quick curtsy, and left the lovers to themselves. She took the long way around to the still room and walked slowly, determined to give them plenty of time.

She retrieved her basket and wandered back in the direction of the garden, clipping a few flowers and humming as she went to give them a little more time and a warning. She began to hear soft murmurs behind the hedge, then Mr. Bingley and Jane emerged, both with elated, dreamy smiles.

"Miss Elizabeth!" Mr. Bingley exclaimed with a delighted smile. "Your sister has just agreed to make me the happiest of men!"

"I am very happy for you both," Elizabeth replied sincerely. "I shall be quite pleased to call you brother, Mr. Bingley."

Mr. Bingley responded in kind, then excused himself to speak to their father.

The ladies followed him more slowly as he walked swiftly into the house.

"Jane, I do not wish to cast any sort of shadow over your happiness, but do you think Mr. Bingley will be very shocked by my history?" Elizabeth asked with trepidation.

Jane replied quietly, "I did tell him that I would happily marry him, but that he must speak with Papa first, even though I am of age, as I wished for him to know our family's situation. I could not tell him myself. I could not bear to hear his initial reaction should he be too shocked. He assured me that he loves me more than anything, and I very much wish to believe him. Only, I think he assumes that it is my dowry or something like it that I am warning him about." She paused. "Oh, I do not know, Lizzy! What do you think?" she asked desperately.

"I think it is a good sign that he came back for you. Even if Papa does not give him many details, though, it will be a lot for a man to take in."

They were both quiet as they reached the house. Elizabeth turned to Jane before they crossed the threshold. "Jane, I cannot begin to express how sorry I will be if I have ruined your chance at happiness."

"Oh Lizzy!" Jane cried with tears in her eyes. "You know as well as I do that this is not your fault. I have faith in him, and if proves false then…" she trailed off, unable to finish.

Elizabeth reached her hand for Jane's and squeezed. "Come, we shall hope for the best."

They went to their room to wait, afraid that Mrs. Bennet would know why Mr. Bingley was missing but had not taken his leave. It was only a short time before they were disturbed by Mrs. Hill knocking at the door, telling them that their father wished for them in his study.

"Congratulations, Jane, I am very happy for you," Mr. Bennet said as soon as they had entered.

"Thank you, Papa!" Jane replied with a relieved smile, her eyes already turned toward Mr. Bingley.

Elizabeth saw the happy smile on Mr. Bingley's face and turned in surprise toward her father, who shrugged. She turned and offered her own congratulations to the couple, who were now standing together with Jane's arm nestled in Mr. Bingley's.

"Thank you, Miss Elizabeth. Jane has made me the happiest of men."

"And you are not concerned about my history?" Elizabeth asked tentatively.

"Your father has said that you are quite finished with it, so there is not much danger anymore. Besides, I cannot imagine a circumstance that would cause me to ever leave Jane again," he replied with a smile toward his fiancée.

"I am glad to hear that, sir."

"Shall we go tell the rest of the family?" asked Mr. Bennet.

As the newly acknowledged couple moved eagerly to share their good news, Elizabeth held back for a moment.

"Just like that?" she asked. "He seems completely unconcerned."

"He had very few questions. I do not think him a naturally curious man, and he is rather trusting. He is a match for Jane that way. How they will not be swindled by every servant they have, I do not know," her father replied dryly.

"He is rather rich. Hopefully that is enough," Elizabeth replied cheekily.

Her father laughed. They reached the parlour in time to hear Mrs. Bennet's rather loud effusions of delight. She offered for Mr. Bingley to stay for supper, which he declined for his friend's sake. They settled on two nights hence, as the Netherfield gentlemen were invited to the Goulding's the following evening.

* * *

Elizabeth found herself disappointed again the next day when Mr. Bingley called alone. She did not understand why Mr. Darcy would stay in the area, yet bury himself in his business matters. Why would he ignore her if he was interested in courting her? It seemed he was not interested, and maintained his residence at Netherfield for some other reason, regardless of what her father said.

Though she forced herself to smile and laugh in all of the right places, her mind was not on the conversation at hand. Jane must have noticed her absent mindedness, however, because she asked about it that night as they undressed.

"Is there something the matter, Lizzy? You do not seem content, and I am worried for you."

"I am sorry Jane. I do not wish to detract from your current well-deserved happiness. There is nothing much the matter with me, other than a little melancholy."

"I should not wish to be selfish in my happiness. What has made you discontent?"

When Elizabeth hesitated, she spoke again. "Is it hard to leave the excitement of what you have done behind? Do you find it less than satisfying?"

"No, I do not wish for a faster life, I am quite satisfied to be done with spying forever."

"Then what is it?"

"You will think me quite selfish, Jane. I am jealous of what you have found with Mr. Bingley because I doubt the possibility for myself. I think of the years stretching out, living with Mama and her incessant need to marry us off, and it leaves me discontent."

"Why should you not marry some day?"

"How many gentlemen would be willing to overlook my past occupation? It is not as though I can hide it from a future husband; he must be told. While your Mr. Bingley does not mind it in his future sister, what if it were his future wife? Do you think he would have been so easy about it? Besides, a man of Mr. Bingley's nature is a wonderful partner for you, but he would not be for me. He avoids conflict, and I challenge everything. I would not be happy with a man who did not do that himself, who did not answer that challenge. A man like that would not be so easy going. No Jane, the odds of me marrying are very slim."

Jane was thoughtful for a minute before she replied. "While I do not agree that it will be difficult for you to find a gentleman with whom you can share mutual respect and affection and who is willing to accept your past, even if you cannot, you need not live with Mama forever. You will always be welcome to stay with me indefinitely."

"And shall I teach your children to climb trees and embroider cushions very ill?" Elizabeth asked with a saucy smile.

Jane returned a rare smirk. "Perhaps I will make it my mission to introduce you to eligible gentlemen until I prove you wrong."

"No!" Elizabeth said in mock horror. "Not you too, Jane!"

They both laughed, and Elizabeth felt somewhat better. Though she was still anxious over Mr. Darcy, she was relieved that she would not need to live with her mother forever.

* * *

Darcy took a calming breath as he and Bingley presented themselves to Mrs. Hill. After the previous dinner, he had settled in his mind that he would visit every second day. That would allow him to call as a neighbor with his friend without exciting too much interest. When Bingley brought this invitation to him, set for the third day, he decided it was better to wait rather than call two days together. The delay had risen his anticipation to heights that had him nearly bursting.

He greeted the family in general, then offered his congratulations to Miss Bennet. She barely had a chance to offer her thanks before Mrs. Bennet offered her own in excess.

"Oh, thank you Mr. Darcy! We are quite pleased, I must say. I always knew my Jane could not be so beautiful for nothing! Now she shall marry such a handsome man, and live so well, and I shall be able to visit her every day! We are so very pleased."

Darcy was determined to hold his face neutral and not allow the cringe he felt show. He could not imagine living within daily-visiting distance of Mrs. Bennet, though a glance at his friend showed Bingley smiling contentedly. When he finally allowed himself to look at Elizabeth, he saw a slight grimace on her face, directed at her mother.

Mrs. Bennet soon directed her conversation to Bingley, and Darcy took advantage of the moment to sit in the chair next to Elizabeth's.

"Good day, Mr. Darcy," she said as soon as he was seated.

"Good day, Miss Elizabeth."

"It was kind of you to join us when you have been so occupied by business these past two days."

"Not all gentlemen are gentlemen of leisure, Miss Elizabeth," he replied stiffly, a little surprised by the coolness in her voice.

"I do not think anyone could accuse you of that, Mr. Darcy."

"I pride myself in being an active landlord." He almost cringed after he said it. She was not particularly fond of his pride.

"I imagine your tenants are very grateful."

"Content would be more what I am working to achieve. They were so under my father, and I wish to meet the same expectation." There, he had hopefully clarified his meaning.

"Yes, and I cannot fathom neglecting a family estate in days such as these."

He recognised his own words, then noticed the smirk about her mouth and the twinkle in her eye. It dawned on him, she was teasing!

"I do believe one must leave their estate in better condition than they received it," he replied seriously, barely keeping his mouth from smiling at her.

"For your children's future?"

"Nay, for the importance of my own legacy," he said gravely.

Elizabeth leaned back slightly, her mouth opened and closed, and she wrinkled her nose. Would she know that he was teasing in return?

He quirked a brow, and her eyes widened.

"Why Mr. Darcy, I do believe you have learned to tease," she finally said, delighted.

He smiled. "I had an excellent teacher."

He was rewarded with a beautiful smile that made his heart leap.

Mr. Bingley suggested a walk before dinner, which only Jane, Elizabeth and Darcy joined. They soon split into pairs, and Elizabeth and Darcy found themselves nearly alone again.

They began by speaking of trivial topics; primarily the weather and their sisters. Darcy cursed his poor conversational ability. He could not think of a way to ask what he wished to know without being blunt and obvious. Now that the moment was upon him, he found himself too much of a coward to ask her outright if she loved him enough to marry him. She had teased him last autumn and had not loved him. What if she was merely being kind?

"Are you happy to be back in Hertfordshire, Miss Elizabeth?" he asked awkwardly as they neared the house again.

"I am, sir." She hesitated, then said, "Knowing that I will not be compelled to leave again is satisfying."

"Is it your intent, then, to stay in Hertfordshire indefinitely?"If that was her plan, he would know that he was not a part of her future. Perhaps he had found a way to ask after all.

He held his breath until she answered. "It is not. I should perhaps have said that I will not leave again until it is my choice to do so. I am certain I will travel again, and I will likely live with Mr. Bingley and Jane eventually, who may not stay at Netherfield forever."

He sighed to himself. "I am happy for you, that you will always be near Miss Bennet, whom I know is your dearest sister."

Bingley and Jane had nearly caught up with them when he heard her say softly, "Yes, that is a comfort."

Her face did not express comfort, though, only sadness. She looked relieved when the other couple joined them near the door, and with one look at Jane, the sisters paired off and left the gentlemen to follow them.

Darcy did not have another chance to speak with Elizabeth that evening, but he did not miss the wistful expression he caught every time he would glance in her direction and she would quickly look away, nor her general avoidance of him. She had been pleased to see him when he had arrived, and now she was not.

He cursed himself again for his trepidation earlier. If he thought it was uncomfortable for him to speak, it was even more so for her. It was always the gentleman's place, even if she had proven that she was not above flouting convention. He sighed to himself. It was an excuse to hope she would speak first, and he knew it. He was absolutely determined to be frank at the next available opportunity.

* * *

Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to excuse herself to her room to wallow, but she stayed to go through the motions of the rest of the evening. When the gentlemen departed with an invitation for another dinner two days hence, much to her chagrin, she escaped upstairs.

She readied herself for bed quickly to avoid speaking to Jane. She could not bear to say out loud what was in her heart. Darcy had been nearly flirtatious with his teasing, then been given a perfect opportunity to let his intentions be known, and he had chosen to speak of nothing of importance. He had been pleased that she would have comfort in her spinsterhood.

It was too much.

* * *

Elizabeth rose as usual for her walk the next day, stopping in the kitchen for something to eat on her way out. She had no intention of returning for breakfast. Though she doubted he would visit, she could not face Mr. Darcy again and keep up the pretence of normalcy, and so planned to stay away until afternoon tea to be safe.

She felt like a coward.

Cook graciously ignored her pilfering of bread and cheese, sending her out the door with wishes for a pleasant walk and an enjoyable day.

Elizabeth _was_ determined to enjoy the day. She was home, her family was safe, her sister had found her heart's desire, and it was a beautiful day for a walk. This was her home, and she would likely reside here for some time, even if Jane was happy to have her. Newlyweds who had married for love deserved time to themselves.

Hers was a lovely home, one a country-bred girl like herself appreciated for its space, its simplicity, its peace. Here, she knew the troubles and trials; she knew they all had a solution. Tenant disputes and illnesses, squabbling maids, lame animals, these were all things she was used to seeing and resolving. There were no political intrigues or traitorous citizens about. If she could simply avoid any visiting eligible bachelors for a while, she would find contentment. She always had before _him_ and she was quite determined to now.

With that determination in her step, she quickly walked the familiar path to Oakham Mount to enjoy the sun's early beauty. She had missed sunrise, but the beginning part of day was always the most beautiful from that vantage point. Perhaps she would push herself out the door early enough on the morrow to enjoy it.

As she walked, she reveled in the fresh, flowery scent the breeze brought with from the meadow to her left, and sounds of the song birds in the trees to her right. She would check the apple grove on her way back, and offer to collect enough tomorrow for pies if they were ready. Her mother's table was famous for her fresh apple pies, and the season was just about right for them. They would make a lovely addition to dinner.

Elizabeth hummed and sang and danced her way up the path, finally breaking into a run for the last, steep incline, enjoying the breathlessness she felt at the top. This path, this hill, the woods below, these were all parts of her home that brought comfort, that brought peace when she felt overwhelmed. They had gotten her through the last three years, and they would get her through the next thirty if they needed to.

When tears threatened at the thought of spending the rest of her life alone, without love, she ran again as she reminded herself that she had love. She had her mother, her father, her sisters. She had Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and their children. Her cousins were dear little creatures, and she could imagine Jane and Mr. Bingley's children being just as sweet. She would have the love of children, even if they could not be her own.

Besides, she thought ruefully, there was always the hope of meeting another Mr. Collins.

* * *

Darcy did not wait till the second day this time, but was disappointed anyway. Elizabeth did not show at all during the gentlemen's visit. He suffered through an uncomfortable half hour with frustration rising. Was she avoiding him? Had he waited too long to come to the point and she had given up on him? Would she find an excuse to miss dinner the next day as well? He did not think her manners capable of it, yet he would not blame her.

He left Longbourn settling on a plan. He knew she walked frequently and far, and her family had almost made it sound as though they did not know where she was, yet they had been unconcerned. If he wanted another opportunity to speak with her privately, he would need to find it himself.

The following morning, he left Netherfield on horseback about an hour past dawn. He headed in the direction of Longbourn, to a tall hill between there and Netherfield that would allow for an excellent vantage point. He hoped she was wearing something that stood out, and not the browns and greens he had sometimes seen her in before. He reached the peak and stopped to search the woods and fields he could see. After a few minutes of searching, his eye caught light-coloured movement in the top of a tree. At first he watched in disbelief, then laughed as he realised that it was perfectly expected of the Elizabeth he knew. Of course she was in a tree.

He nudged his mount down the hill, following the path toward the grove where he had seen her. As he got closer, he dismounted and secured his horse. He walked quietly into view of her, watching as she appeared to be picking apples to fill a basket. He saw her bonnet and spencer lying on the ground next to a second, as of yet empty, basket. Her skirts were tied up just below her knees, leaving a scandalous amount of stocking out for show.

He took a few more steps, not attempting to quiet his presence any longer, and she froze.

"Mr. Darcy!" she cried quietly, then scrambled down the branches so quickly that Darcy was afraid she would fall.

"Miss Bennet, please, do not hurry on my account," he pleaded, not wanting her to fall.

She reached the lowest branch, grabbed hold, and swung down, dropping the remaining few inches to the ground on silent feet. Her speed and agility caught him off guard, and he simply stared at her as she tucked in a few stray hairs, then looked helplessly at her nearly bare calves.

She looked mortified, but bravely straightened her spine and faced him, though she avoided his eyes. "You, sir, are unnervingly good at finding me in improper moments. However do you manage it?"

Darcy could not help his smile. "Perhaps it is because I am always looking for you."

He heard her sharp intake of breath, and her eyes glanced to his and away again quickly, though she did not speak. He took a step forward and gently reached for her hand, watching her reaction as he did so. She still would not look at him, but she did not shy away either. He glanced down as he grasped her, and saw the fading bruises on her arm. How could he not feel so strongly for a woman who would give so much of herself for those she loved? Any lingering doubts of his own wishes fled as he reached up and brushed his fingers over the marks. He resented the glove on his own hand, wishing he could feel the delicate skin that shivered under his touch. He was struck with an overwhelming desire to kiss every one of those bruises, and looked up before he gave into that desire and frightened her.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, and she finally turned her eyes to his and held them. He could see trepidation and tears, but also hope.

"Elizabeth," he said again, "I am a quiet man who lives a quiet life. I would very much like to share that life with you. Could you," he hesitated, "do you think you could find contentment with me? Could you be happy?"

"I do not desire a fast life, sir."

He felt his heart soar. "Then would you do me the great honour of becoming my wife?"

He could feel her tremble, and she hesitated in her answer. Had he misunderstood?

"Miss Bennet?"

"Are you certain, absolutely certain that this is what you desire?" she asked, her voice strained.

"I am," he replied firmly. "I have loved you for nearly as long as I have known you, and nothing has cooled that love. I find it only burns brighter through everything I have seen and learned. I do not think it possible for me to forget you even if I tried, which I have no desire to do."

"Then you have forgiven me for all I have done to you? You hold no resentment?" she whispered with tears beginning to fall.

"There is nothing to forgive," he replied lightly.

"But my invasion of your home, and the things I have said, and -"

He cut her off with a finger on her lips. "It does not matter."

"You are a very good man," she said against his finger and through her tears. He lifted his finger and she smiled tremulously. "I would be delighted to marry you, Mr. Darcy."

He tugged her closer with the hand he already held and wrapped his free arm around her, pulling her in tight. "It is Fitzwilliam, please."

She took a stuttering breath, then said almost reverently, "Fitzwilliam."

His name said by her soft lips and in her musical voice was perfect.

"I love you, my Elizabeth," he said.

Then he kissed her.

* * *

 _A/N: I offer no excuses, only thanks to those who are sticking with me. I appreciate your patience._


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Oh, hey! It has been forever-and-a-day, and for that I apologize. If you are still interested enough in this story to read this final chapter, THANK YOU._

(12)

"You are trembling, love," Darcy murmured as he pulled away from the kiss. He caressed her cheeks where the tears continued to fall.

Elizabeth took a few calming breaths, trying to steady her voice before she replied. She was quite certain she would collapse to the ground if he let go of her. She gripped him tighter.

"I do not think I quite believe it yet," she finally said shakily. "I am so relieved, so happy, that I am overwhelmed."

"I am glad that you are so happy," he said.

"How could I not be?" she asked. "I thought I had lost my chance to marry for love. Truly, I spent the past three years believing I would never find the chance, that I would be fortunate to marry at all."

"Then you do love me in return?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh Fitzwilliam, of course I love you."

He dropped his lips to hers for another kiss that was not nearly so gentle nor so brief as the first, and then he was drawing kisses down her cheeks to along her jaw line. When he reached the soft place beneath her ear, she drew in a sharp breath and shivered. He placed a few more down her neck, relishing the feeling of her hands tightening on his shoulders before he stopped himself. He pulled her in tight and rested his cheek on top of her head, letting his breathing and heart slow and feeling hers do the same. He realised they needed a distraction before he did something ungentlemanly.

"Do you have another basket to fill?" he asked against her hair when she had settled.

She looked over to her second basket by her other things, then responded with a nod. "I offered to collect for tonight's pies."

"May I assist you?" he asked.

She pulled back in surprise. "If you like?" she replied in a questioning tone.

He nodded, let go of her, then proceeded to remove his own jacket and hat, dropping them next to hers. She watched him pick up the empty basket, hook it on his arm, reach up to grab the lowest branch and pull himself up. He used brute strength to move, rather than technique, and she found herself watching him in awe. He was definitely _not_ just a gentleman of leisure.

He worked his way up the tree, then looked back at her. "Are you not going to join me?"

Her mouth worked open and closed a few times, then she shrugged and followed. She could feel him watching her swift progression through the tree. She lept up and grabbed hold of the low branch, pulled herself up on it and slipped from branch to branch with very little noise.

She sat across from him, but did not start picking again.

"You are much better at that than I am," he said simply.

She smiled. "I would venture to guess that I practice more. I am also smaller, so I fit in the spaces a little easier."

He looked down at where he had come through the branches. "You did not knock as many branches and leaves off, either," he said ruefully.

"That makes too much noise. I needed to learn to climb silently if I wanted to go places I did not belong," she said without thinking, then immediately regretted it. While he had forgiven her, and loved her, he might not wish to be reminded of what she had done.

He did not look upset, however, merely curious. "I do not think I ever remember hearing you make noise when you walk, other than the slight rustle of your clothing. I had not realised that before. You are also by far the most graceful woman I have ever had the privilege to dance with."

She felt a blush creep up her cheeks. He did not seem to mind speaking of it, though, and she would rather they did not avoid such an enormous part of her life. "It was habit. I always thought about my movements so that it was second nature. It kept me from slipping up."

He nodded, then began picking apples. She watched him for a moment before joining him. They worked quietly for a few minutes while her mind absorbed the fact that she was engaged to him. She was engaged to Fitzwilliam Darcy and he loved her. Despite her past, despite her mistreatment of him, he still loved her.

She continued watching him while she worked, curious about the thoughtful expression on his face. His mind appeared as busy as hers.

"Fitzwilliam?" she said hesitantly, and he looked at her with a smile.

"Yes, Elizabeth?" he replied. He appeared to relish their new familiarity.

"What are you thinking of?"

"I am wondering what changed, how you ever came to love me. You had, quite rightly I must say, disliked me when I so arrogantly approached you at Hunsford. I did not exactly court your good opinion."

"Have you forgotten the letter you wrote me? Even as stubborn as I am, it was impossible to deny your truth, especially when you offered your cousin as witness."

"Little did I know how much you would trust his word!" Darcy exclaimed. "Did it soon make you think better of me?"

"I could not hold on to my prejudices when I realised my own pride was so at fault. I believe my first softening was while I read it through for the second time. I could not help but think of the hurt I had seen in your eyes when I threw _his_ name at you."

"Were you much injured by knowing?" he asked quietly.

"Injured? No I was not injured. Mr. Wickham meant no more to me than any other passing acquaintance."

At Darcy's sigh of relief, Elizabeth offered him a soft smile. "I admit I had little discernment of his character, but I knew that it would have been foolish to encourage him. While I have always wished to marry for affection, I would prefer not to launder my own clothes, if I can help it. When he turned his affections from me to other, more lucrative pursuits, I knew I was unaffected."

"The wash?" Darcy asked, amused. "I must admit, that is not the worst task I can think of that I am happy to have servants for."

Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. "I despise overly humid weather. I cannot imagine standing over a tub of hot clothes with the steam waving over me without relief for hours. I would have been miserable as a laundry maid, likely as a scullery maid too, with the dishes. My requirements for a future husband were not many other than affection, but were more than a penniless lieutenant in the militia could offer. Thankfully, I had the good sense to fall in love with a man who can afford to keep me out of the kitchen."

Darcy laughed outright. "Well, I am glad that I can offer you that security. I believe I can safely say that you will never need to worry about becoming a laundry maid as Mrs. Darcy."

"Mrs. Darcy," Elizabeth said happily. "How dear that sounds."

"I do not know which I shall take more pleasure in, the privilege of calling you Elizabeth, or the joy of saying Mrs. Darcy," he replied contentedly.

Their basket was soon full, and they descended much as they came up, with Elizabeth managing to remain elegant while Darcy imagined he looked much like a bear crashing his way down. He felt it well worth the indignity when he saw the fond smile she gave him when he reached the ground.

"I would never have pictured you as one to climb trees. I would have said the Mr. Darcy I thought I knew would be too proper to do something so undignified," Elizabeth said.

"And I am not at all surprised to have caught Elizabeth Bennet in a tree," he replied.

"Oh dear, am I so obviously wild? I had so hoped to pass myself off as a lady."

He reached for her hand and gently tugged her toward him. "I think you every bit a lady; one with a liveliness and unabashed joy for life that I very much hope to learn from."

Elizabeth looked down, suddenly anxious. "You do not worry what society will say if my past comes out? There are plenty of times I have not acted as society dictates a lady should."

"Elizabeth," he sighed, then pulled her into the circle of his arms. She did not resist, burying her face in his shoulder. He rubbed her back to loosen the tension he felt there. "I will feel nothing but pride to have you on my arm, for all of society to see. I would stand by you through _anything_. Besides, I am not overly worried. Even if there are rumors, I cannot imagine the whole of it becoming known, and if it should get bad enough, I would not be upset to spend the remainder of our days hidden away at Pemberley."

"You would not miss town?"

"Like you, I do not desire a fast life. I can picture myself quite content to live with you at Pemberley. Even if no one ever finds out your past, I do not expect to spend much away from home anyway."

"We are so much more alike than I ever imagined. I do believe we will get on quite well together."

She wrapped her arms about his waist and held him closer. It did not take long for Darcy's mind to move from the comfort he felt in having her so close to the desire that having her nearly pressed against the full length of him brought. He reluctantly let her go and offered to walk her back to Longbourn. They donned their outerwear again, each picking up a basket, and then Darcy offered his arm. Elizabeth happily took it, and they slowly made their way back.

* * *

Darcy and Bingley arrived well before dinner, to the delight of their ladies and future mother-in-law, who liked to see Jane's lover's devotion. She still had no use for Mr. Darcy, which mortified Elizabeth, but Darcy merely shrugged and smiled. He mouthed "later" to her, which earned him a rueful expression. Elizabeth was not looking forward to the effusions of her mother when she learned of their engagement, but that would be preferable to the coldness she exhibited toward him now.

Darcy soon disappeared from the sitting room with a smile to his betrothed and a lightness to his step. He did not anticipate surprise from Mr. Bennet for his application. He rather expected to be teased.

He knocked on the door and was bid to enter.

"Ah, Mr. Darcy, I had heard that you and your friend were due for dinner, though it is a bit early. What can I do for you?" Mr. Bennet asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"I have come to ask for your daughter Elizabeth's hand in marriage," Darcy replied solemnly.

"Have you now? And has my daughter agreed to end your misery?" Mr. Bennet asked, mimicking the younger man's gravity.

"She has done me the honor of accepting me, yes."

Darcy could see laughter forming on Mr. Bennet's face at their stilted conversation, though he was not offended. Odd, really, as he usually did not appreciate being the object of a joke. He supposed he understood the older man well enough now to know that it was his need to keep life light.

"Are you able to support her at least in the style in which she has been raised, young man?"

"As my wife, Miss Elizabeth shall want for nothing. If you wish to see the settlement papers before granting your consent, I understand."

Mr. Bennet smirked. "And if you catch her climbing a tree, what will you do then, young man?"

Darcy smiled softly and replied, "Request permission to join her."

Mr. Bennet stopped laughing.

"As my wife," Darcy continued, "Miss Elizabeth will be treasured. I am a fortunate man, that she is so willing to look past all of my faults and agree to be my partner in life."

"That you are, though I would argue that the fortune does not only lie with you," Mr. Bennet replied in all seriousness, with a little mistiness in his eyes. "I could not have parted with her for anyone less worthy, son."

"Thank you," Darcy replied with feeling.

Mr. Bennet cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, shall we share the news with the family, then?"

Her family reacted as expected, to Elizabeth's chagrin. Her mother began in disbelief, managing to disparage Elizabeth's charms until Darcy gallantly, if rather stiffly, assured his future mother of his attraction to his betrothed. Her two youngest sisters could only think of her future pin money and how much of it they could convince her to spend on them. That set her mother off on all of the advantages of the match, to which her father responded mockingly in order to silence her. When Elizabeth sighed quietly, she felt Darcy squeeze her hand where it rested on his arm. She smiled ruefully at him, grateful that he was bearing it all rather well.

* * *

Once Mrs. Bennet was over her initial shock, Elizabeth was not certain if her mother was more pleased at the thought of her being Mrs. Darcy, and all the pride that came with it, or at her chance to plan a wedding the likes of which their quiet little corner of the county had never seen. Her formidable hostess skills were all brought to the fore in the planning of two weddings, and with a zeal that was overwhelming. Elizabeth, much to her dismay, was given very little time alone with her betrothed as her mother dealt out marching orders with all the command of a general heading into battle. This went on for several days, until Jane suggested a possible double wedding. Not only would it allow sisters so dear to one another share their special day, but would also be a single event, with the intent of reducing the burden on them all. At first, Mrs. Bennet was very much against losing the chance to host both, but was soon convinced when Mr. Bennet pointed out that she would have twice the budget for it, if she only need do it once.

Jane then suggested that, since Mrs. Bennet and the younger three girls would require new dresses for the event, perhaps they should take a day from wedding planning to enjoy shopping for them in Meryton. Further, since the older two were receiving so much attention, Jane felt that she and Lizzy should stay home for the day, to keep from being a distraction from the party. Elizabeth had never been so proud of her elder sister's management of their mother. She never had figured out how to use her own extensive skills on Mrs. Bennet, always becoming frustrated and unable to carry her point. Jane did it so sweetly to make Mrs. Bennet feel as though it was her own idea from the start.

"You are a miracle, Jane," Elizabeth said, as they waved to the carriage pulling away on the morning of their first day of freedom in over a week.

"Our sisters really ought to have a chance to choose their dresses without the constant questions to us about our weddings," Jane replied demurely.

"And I suppose you will ask Papa to chaperone you when Mr. Bingley arrives?"

Jane blushed. "I had assumed we could chaperone each other."

"Well, I shall pay as much attention to you and your Mr. Bingley as you do to me and Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied with a grin as they went into the house.

The post arrived shortly after the gentlemen, and Elizabeth pocketed two letters from Mrs. Hill to be read later, since she and Darcy were going out for a walk.

"I believe one is from my Aunt Gardiner; she is likely very happy for us."

"Do you think so? I did not think I had left the Gardiners with the best impression, at our last meeting," Darcy replied contritely.

"Their primary concern was keeping me safe of course, but they understood your position. I do believe that having the sense to offer for me will have swiftly increased their esteem," Elizabeth replied cheekily.

"Perhaps you should check. They may warn you off me," he replied dryly.

"I should, and then I can embarrass you with their praise," Elizabeth replied as she pulled both letters from her pocket. She was moving the other letter back to her pocket when Darcy reached out and stopped her.

"Do you know who that letter is from?" he asked in a strained voice.

She glanced up and saw the discomfort in his expression, then back down at the envelope. It was a script she would describe as strong, yet feminine. "I vaguely recognise the hand, but I cannot place it," she replied.

"It looks distinctly like Lady Catherine's. I am tempted to ask you to throw it into a fire without reading it."

"If she disapproves so heartily, as I would guess your comment suggests, why would she write to me, instead of you? We are not so well acquainted from my short visit in the spring."

"She likes to have her own way, and feels everyone should bow to it, regardless of her right to insist."

Elizabeth thought about it for moment, and realised he would be right. That was precisely why she had invaded the lady's privacy.

"Now I am very curious as to what she would say," Elizabeth said, as she moved to tear the seal.

Darcy stopped her gently. "I would rather you did not. She can have nothing to say that you would want to hear."

"I am not afraid of her."

"Of that I have no doubt, but I am likely to be ashamed of her."

Elizabeth's brow rose. Her first inclination was to tease, but she thought better of it. "Would you prefer to read it first?"

"I would prefer it not read at all, but if that is the only alternative, it is better than you being injured."

Elizabeth handed the letter over. Darcy perused it quickly, his countenance darkening, then turning thunderous just before he finished. He folded it up quickly.

"I will destroy it, if you will let me. I will reply as well. She cannot be allowed to write to you in such a manner. I will not allow it!" his voice rising as he spoke.

"What did she say?" Elizabeth asked calmly.

"Nothing fit for you to read. Nothing fit for a lady to write!" he stormed. "I cannot believe the nerve of her."

"Fitzwilliam," Elizabeth pressed gently as she laid her hand on his arm. "What did she say?"

Darcy hesitated, but Elizabeth raised her brow again, and he relented. "She has threatened extortion if you do not break our engagement."

Elizabeth shrugged. "I am not concerned."

"She is quite serious," Darcy said. "I am not entirely sure what she is capable of, but it could create difficulty for us."

"Yes, I know she is serious," Elizabeth responded lightly. "However, I also know that she is no longer in a position to do so."

"How can you be so sure?" he asked.

"The same way I know she has done it before."

It only took a moment for Darcy to understand. "That was why you were in Kent."

"It was, though I was also there to enjoy my friend's company," she replied. When he was thoughtful for a few minutes, she asked quietly, "Does that bother you, that I have invaded your aunt's privacy?"

Darcy looked at her in surprise. "No," he said. "I understand that you did what you were required to do. I am remembering a conversation that I had with my cousin, however, about this very thing. He would not tell me why she had been...investigated. You say it was for something like this. I am trying to understand how she could have gone so far as to anger the Prime Minister, which, from my understanding, is who you were acting on the behalf of."

"It is," Elizabeth replied. "She had begun collecting information on Anne's de Bourgh cousins a few years ago. I do not know precisely what set her to it, but she was looking for anything that would discredit them in society enough that they would not wish it exposed."

"The next-in-line had visited her," Darcy commented. "It was directly before Easter, three years ago. I remember, because that was when she began speaking of the supposed engagement between Anne and myself. I believe she thought he was sniffing around Rosings, since if Anne never weds, it will go to him upon her death. Anne's health had taken a turn for the worse that winter. Lady Catherine must know it is unlikely that Sir Lewis' nephew would let her continue on as she is. She assumed I, on the other hand, would not turn her out of her home."

"Would you have?" Elizabeth asked curiously.

"No, but I also never had any intention of marrying Anne. We would not suit, no matter how much my aunt declares it to be so."

"Does Rosings not have a dower house?" Elizabeth asked.

"It does, but if Anne were to wed me, she would remove to Pemberley and there would be no need for Lady Catherine to leave her current position at all."

"So she was attempting to marry Anne to you, and at the same time find a way to control the de Bourgh cousin who might send her out the door as he walked in. She might have succeeded, if his younger brother was not a valuable member of Lord Liverpool's ministerial staff."

"I did not realise Arthur de Bourgh had grown so powerful," Darcy said in surprise.

Elizabeth smiled. "Not so powerful, but he has been providing Lord Liverpool and his dear friends with many things from the continent that are difficult to acquire."

"And the Prime Minister protected him for it? I thought you ferreted out those who performed illegal activities."

"Only when they do not benefit Lord Liverpool."

Darcy shook his head. "It is rather disconcerting how little morals exist in the men responsible for our country."

"In my experience, most men of wealth and influence feel entitled to use that power to their own benefit."

Darcy grimaced. "I hope you do not think so poorly of me."

"I would not be marrying you if I believed that," Elizabeth replied. "You are the best of men, Fitzwillam. I only wish I would have seen it sooner. It was rather stupid and stubborn of me not to."

Darcy stopped walking and turned toward Elizabeth. "I did not give you much reason to think otherwise."

"Perhaps not in the beginning, but I was not looking, either. Later though, I saw your business concerns," Elizabeth spoke quietly, still hesitant to bring up her invasion of his privacy yet wanting to convince him. "When we investigated your aunt, it was discovered that she had developed a taste for her new hobby. Her last steward was an unscrupulous man who made a living of gathering dark secrets about others. Your aunt funded his activities for her own benefit. She had gathered quite the information on some of the leading families in society. You were targeted by the prime minister's office because you could have benefitted from what she was doing. But what I discovered quickly exonerated you. You are scrupulously fair. Your business dealings were all honest, and you have nothing to hide."

"I am gratified to hear that, but what of my treatment of others?" he asked. "I have been a very selfish creature, to think so meanly of the rest of the world and so highly of myself."

"I have seen your treatment of your servants, and they could not ask for a better master. Even last autumn, while we were all at Netherfield together, I could not ignore the respect you gave the servants. With your wealth and position, you could act very poorly, as I have seen others do in your place, but you do not. It is in those moments, when by right you have the upper hand, when you could be cruel, that the truth of the man you are shows."

"It is easy to treat those who would be defenceless with consideration. What about my equals? What about you and your family and neighbors? I behaved abhorrently last autumn, and I am heartily ashamed of myself."

Elizabeth sighed, "And my manners at the time were imperfect as well. I was rude to you, hoping to cause you pain. We could argue indefinitely for our share in the blame for the unhappy early part of our acquaintance. We have both changed since then. Let us forgive our own faults as we have each other's and move forward."

They walked on again, their conversation drifting to more pleasant topics. When they returned to the house much later, Elizabeth allowed Darcy to burn the letter from his aunt, and then did read her aunt's aloud to him. It was full of happiness and good tidings for the future, along with strong praises for them both. It did make Darcy's ears pink, just a little.

* * *

After a few more days of frenzied wedding planning, Jane contrived several hours for the sisters to visit Netherfield alone. Elizabeth knew that Jane's real purpose, other than the time with her betrothed, was to decide on the decorations for her future mistress's suite. How Jane managed to keep that from their mother, who would have eagerly imposed her taste on the scheme, Elizabeth did not know.

Darcy and Bingley met them in the hall, and the couples quickly separated. Jane and Bingley headed off to meet with the housekeeper while Darcy and Elizabeth moved to the library. They were just settling together on a sofa when the post arrived, and it was Darcy's turn to receive a letter that roused curiosity. It only took a quick glance for Elizabeth to recognise the sender by his seal.

"Your uncle has written. Do you suppose he is more pleased with your announcement than his sister?" Elizabeth asked teasingly.

Darcy hesitated, "I am not certain."

"Are you truly worried?" Elizabeth asked in surprise. "I have met the earl, and he seems more forward-thinking than your aunt."

"I agree. Perhaps I should let him speak for himself," Darcy replied as he opened the letter.

Elizabeth watched in fascination as his expression moved from a look of trepidation to one of astonishment. He glanced up, saw her stare, and flushed.

"Were you laughing at me, when I so foolishly disparaged your connections in Kent?" he asked in embarrassment.

"No," she answered in confusion. "In my memory of that night, I do not think I felt that way. You were correct that I do not have many connections."

"Not according to my uncle," he replied. "The earl is quite pleased with your connections."

At Elizabeth's look of astonishment, he handed her the letter. In it, his uncle congratulated Darcy on the connection to the Bathursts. It would seem he had been looking for it for some time. His sons had not been able to entice Lady Emily, and he had not thought of Miss Bennet, one of the lady's dearest friends. Having met Miss Bennet on several occasions though, and knowing how well-regarded her father was, he was confident that she would be a credit to the family. Since the Earl and Countess Bathurst had already called to congratulate them on the engagement and ask about a celebratory ball early in the season, he was quite pleased.

Elizabeth did laugh then, as she handed the letter back. "I never thought that this unfortunate duty would _raise_ my worth in the eyes of society. Truly, the Bathursts are excellent people and I suppose I should not be surprised that they have called on the Fitzwilliams. The countess has always been conscious of what needs to be done to keep the _ton_ at bay. I would not be the least surprised if this was her idea."

"If Lord Bathurst is anything like my uncle, I imagine he encouraged it. My uncle is always looking to put a personal connection between him and a political adversary. Dinners with the two of them will always be interesting."

"I believe that," Elizabeth replied. "Your uncle always did strike me as very similar to Lord Henry in personality if not beliefs. I am grateful that you have the support of at least some of your family."

"I am as well, though I would hope they would have quickly learned to adore you as I have. This merely made it easier."

"Think of all the trouble it would have saved _you_ to know I am so highly connected," Elizabeth said cheekily.

"I apologise again for my poor treatment of you," Darcy replied contritely. "I do not think I will ever be able to say it enough."

"Oh no!" Elizabeth cried. "I will not have you take me seriously when I mean to tease." She glanced quickly over her shoulder at the door, then back at him with mischief in her eyes. "If you do, I will be forced to take drastic measures."

She leaned in and tugged his face close to her own. She kissed him quickly, giving him no time to respond before she pulled back, blushing furiously at her own boldness.

He stopped her retreat, putting an arm around her and tugging her close again. "While that is an effective way to distract me, I think you will find it is not a deterrent," he said as he leaned down and kissed her back, much more thoroughly.

They continued in that manner until a noise from the hall startled Darcy, and he quickly pulled back and righted them both before they could be found in a scandalous position. They were not doing anything most engaged couples did not, but he prefered to avoid rumours. He took a few calming breaths while Elizabeth fixed her hair.

"I apologise," he said, still a little breathless.

"I do not believe I objected," Elizabeth replied, a little breathless herself.

"Still, I should not do so in a public room of the house. It would not do for someone to walk in on us."

Elizabeth sighed, "How sensible of you."

"I do not think of myself as sensible around you at all," he said, though he did not look at all contrite.

Elizabeth laughed. "Well, if you do not want encouragement to act imprudently, we should speak of things that are less provoking."

"What think you of books?" he asked with a bit of a smirk. "You could not discuss them in a ballroom, but what about a library?"

"That is a very fitting place I suppose," Elizabeth said with another laugh. "Yes, let us speak of books."

* * *

Though she had been curious to know, Elizabeth had not asked Darcy about the ring she had discovered in his safe before the wedding, and he had not mentioned it. While she was not surprised when he slipped it on her finger while he spoke his promises, seeing it brought such a rush of emotion from remembering that night that it made her nearly faint. They had overcome so many obstacles, and the relief of finally being in this moment was palpable.

"You had seen the ring then," Darcy commented when they were on their way to London later. "I was not sure if I had caught you before or after."

"I had," she replied quietly.

"Do you like it?" he asked, taking the hand with the ring on it in his own.

"I do. It is absolutely beautiful."

"I am glad. It was my grandmother's. I had it sent to be cleaned before I came to Kent, though at the time I had no intention of using it. When I did decide to propose, I felt it was fortuitous."

"Then I so cruelly rejected you," Elizabeth said remorsefully.

Darcy lifted a brow. "If I am not allowed to repeatedly apologise for the past, neither are you."

Elizabeth smiled sheepishly. "You are correct, we should not regret a past that has been made better." She glanced down at the ring. "Why do you suppose you had it cleaned?"

"I was doing everything I could to remain active, and I believe my acknowledged reason was that I had reached an age where I should be finding a wife. Though even then I could not imagine placing that ring on any woman's hand other than yours. It was very disconcerting."

"And at the time I did not think you would have spared me any thought. How very foolish we both were."

"I certainly felt foolish. I put the ring back into my safe in London when I returned from Kent, but I could not bring myself to leave it when I removed to Pemberley. It was the reason I came to my study that night. I could not sleep for thoughts of you."

"And there I was, though you did not know it," she said wryly. "This ring is also why you caught me. When I saw it, I wondered if it had been meant for me. I was wistfully thinking of what could have been when you walked in. That distraction nearly got me caught for the first time and cost me my lantern."

"I kept it, the lantern. I could not part with it."

"I am glad," Elizabeth said happily. "While I no longer need it, that was my father's, and a very good lantern it is. Its replacement has been tolerable at best."

They were quiet for a moment, then Darcy said contritely, "I still cannot believe I tackled you."

"I have left that and the fact that I broke into your home in the night and rifled through your safe out of the stories of our courtship," Elizabeth replied. "And the fact that I may have punched you."

Darcy shook his head. "Ours has been an interesting history, that is certain."

"And one that we will not be sharing very widely," Elizabeth added.

He sighed contentedly, "But it is our story, and I am so very grateful that there is a 'we' to speak of."

"I agree," she replied.

* * *

 _A/N: What was supposed to be 5-6 chapters turned into twice that. I really need to stop giving length estimates at the beginning of unfinished stories. I appreciate all of the feedback, it has been very helpful. The longer spy story is still in line to be tried, but it will be a while._

 _For those who are waiting for Unanswered Prayers to return, I am determined to finish it now. I reserve the right to publish one to two shots as I go, but I will not begin another long story until I can confidently mark that as complete._


End file.
